


Beyond All Towers

by cato_universe



Series: Beyond All Towers [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual OC, Books, Bottom Upgraded Connor | RK900, Cats, Depressed Gavin Reed, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Gavin has abandonment issues, Good Friend Tina Chen, Healing, Idiots in Love, M/M, Nines is still figuring out life, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900, Tolkien, Top Gavin Reed, no beta we die like men, past one sided hankvin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-01-16 12:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 106,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21271214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cato_universe/pseuds/cato_universe
Summary: Gavin Reed has never been good at deciding who to trust. Except for Tina, his relationships have all gone up in flames, the last one making him decide never to open up to someone again. And then he meets Nines, and for the first time, Gavin wants to trust again.That, of course, doesn’t go so well. Still, the stubborn android doesn’t go away, and Gavin is faced with a choice: having to look at and address his own bullshit, or driving away one of the few people that has ever fought for him.It’s difficult for Gavin to believe things will be fine again.But they will.(cont. of A Matter of Cats)





	1. Prologue: Laura

**Author's Note:**

> Ok some corniness coming up, feel free to skip it!
> 
> This fic is, in many ways, a love letter. 
> 
> I can’t believe the luck that drew me into the fandom of a game I have not even played. I can say in all confidence that the DBH fandom has been the most lucky thing that has happened to me in my adult life. It was your fics that helped me figure out my identity, your art and tweets that helped me realize what a healthy relationship was like, your conversations in discord that made me feel secure in the knowledge there are other people like me, and things will be alright.
> 
> This is, to the best of my current ability, my way of giving back. 
> 
> Thank you to all of the writers, and artists, and lurkers, and commenters, and everyone that makes this fandom a place full of acceptance and joy (and horniness because let’s be real XD).
> 
> This is for you.
> 
> -C.

Laura loved the library during the day, but not as much as she loved it during the night.

It was not like she disliked people. Far from it, the reason she wouldn’t shut herself away in her office was that she loved to listen to the bustle of the library, that not-hushed noise humans made when they were trying to be quiet but not quite succeeding. Children, especially, were great at this: they were unable to be quiet, gasping and shout-whispering when excitement overcame the need of silence.

However, the evening brought to Laura a different sort of appreciation. She loved the silent echo of the halls, the quiet peacefulness of the empty building. To her, that had worked there for a long time and knew every tile and odd creak of the building, it always seemed like the library was breathing, settling down to rest in the aftermath of all the activity.

The silence was always deep, beautiful, and Laura breathed it in as well. She knew it was purely selfish-- the wish to have something she loved completely for herself, the books and the silence and the echoes, all hers even if for a few precious minutes.

“Laura? Are you ready?” Rin called, and Laura allowed herself to relish the android’s voice. That was another reason she’d had to love the library after hours-- her time alone with Rin when androids were not considered sentient but she was sure that Rin’s eyes were too lost and hopeful and afraid to be a mere machine.

The secrecy was not necessary anymore, but like an ingrained instinct, Laura found security in having Rin here, beside her. After all, she was not certain until when this would be the case.

“You’re thinking weird things again, aren’t you?” Rin asked, leaning casually against the door of Laura’s office.

In answer, the woman smiled, finally turning off her computer with a swipe of her thumb. She groaned when she stood from her chair, her back complaining after being too many hours doing dull administrative tasks.

Rin only watched her, attentive and curious eyes following the woman as she gathered her things and placed them in her bag. The android was graceful as she helped Laura into her long coat, unprompted, slender hands smoothing inexistent wrinkles. Rin was always like this, touchy and affectionate, and Laura had long since given up the fight against the blush that dusted her cheeks at her girlfriend’s sweet attention.

The only sounds as they walked the empty halls of the library were Laura’s heels and Rin’s off-key humming of a song Laura didn’t recognize. Although the sky was clear, it was cold outside, the usual October weather. The sky was dark, a couple of stars already twinkling bravely, in defiance of the city lights. 

With the muscle memory born of having done this same task countless times during the years, Laura locked the library doors, distracted by the warmth of Rin pressed close to her. Laura knew Rin’s proximity had nothing to do with the cold, so she smiled indulgently and finally rewarded Rin’s patience by bending down and pressing a sweet kiss to the android’s lips.

Rin hummed, happy, and had already placed her arms around Laura to pull her closer when the sound of steps made them both startle. Laura pulled away when she saw the silhouette of a tall person coming towards them, alarm flashing like an ugly shock through her body. They were not in a bad neighborhood, but it  _ was _ Detroit after all.

The alarm, however, was not long lived, because the person walked under a street light and his face was clearly visible for the brief moment he was bathed by the dirty yellow light.

It was Nines.

But something was wrong. 

Laura could not claim to know Nines very well. At least, not as well as she knew the rest of her staff. It unnerved her, somehow, not being able to tell if he was tired or having a bad day, or in need of a break as she did with the others. Still, she knew him enough to have gotten used to his intensity, the serious dedication he put into all of his tasks, the calm he always exuded.

She had also gotten used to his LED. Laura didn’t know what happened to it and she was not going to ask, but she had never seen an android’s LED do what Nines’ did. While usually android’s LEDs whirled and changed to one solid color to the next, Nines’ was like a butterfly, constantly fluttering, blinking different colors all the time, a second of amber, mixed with blue and yellow in a tapestry that was ever changing.

In the almost four months she had known Nines --which she could admit wasn’t that much, but still-- Laura had never once seen Nines’ LED still for more than a couple of seconds.

But as he walked towards them, stiff like a--like a robot, Nines’ LED was solid red on his temple.

All of this Laura thought in a fraction of a second, and she felt clearly when Rin reached the same conclusion because the android straightened, alert as she assessed the situation in a moment.

One of the things Laura loved about Rin was her physicality. One of the ways Laura had been made aware of her deviancy was Rin’s constant need to move all the time, be it kicking her feet when sitting or talking with her hands. Unlike Laura, Rin had a way to take over the space, make it hers, and maybe it was her love-struck mind that was biased, but she had a way of lingering after she was gone.

Rin, much unlike herself,  _ reacted _ to things. Moved when Laura would have frozen, fearless, always moving forward.

Now, too, she loved her as Rin’s immediate reaction was to dash forwards without hesitation. Laura loved her as she threw her arms around Nines’ neck, pulling the tall android down, tucking him into her embrace, safe and loving and protective.

And although he seemed too big for it, Nines bent down, down, folding into himself until his face was hidden against Rin’s neck, shaking as he held her back like his life depended on it.

Rin made a low sound, soothing, and allowed herself to be held for as long as he needed it.

* * *

They didn't ask what happened.  


They just took him home, a tall shadow that walked listlessly between them, meek and unseeing. If he moved at all, it was only because of Rin’s secure hold on his arm that guided him forward.

It was Laura that opened the door of her and Rin’s home, the familiar smell soothing her frayed nerves.  


She helped Rin settle Nines down in their big couch, helped swaddle him in a blanket like a child, brought out a pouch of thirium from the kitchen without asking. She left Rin to it then, discreetly going upstairs to their bedroom to give the androids privacy, certain that her girlfriend would call her if she needed her.

It was close to midnight when Rin closed the door behind her.  


Laura looked up from her book, taking care of placing a bookmark between its pages before setting it aside. She watched Rin like a hawk as the android changed into her pajamas and got into bed, immediately cuddling up to Laura.

“It was about the job thing, wasn’t it?” Laura asked, easily gathering Rin in her arms. She sighed when Rin didn’t answer. “That bad?”

“Can he stay with us for a while?” Rin asked instead, and Laura was enough in tune with her to catch her anxiousness. She caressed Rin’s bright multicolored hair, trying to soothe her. “He’s going to work tomorrow and, well…I don’t think he should be alone.”

“You know he can, sweetheart,” she answered. Although she was curious, she didn’t press about what had happened. That was between Nines and Rin after all. “But you did ask him about it, didn’t you? He has his cats, and I doubt he’ll leave them unattended.”

Rin’s stubborn silence was answer enough for Laura.

“Rin,” she chided. “I know Nines is your friend and you love him, but you cannot make decisions for him. You have to talk to him, and let him choose for himself. Deciding on your own...that would only hurt him.”

A beat passed in which, even though given their position they could not see each other’s faces, Laura was certain Rin was grimacing.  


“I know,” Rin mumbled, voice small. “I just wish...I wish I could protect him.”

“We always wish to protect those we love,” Laura answered as gently as she could. She made certain to be gentle, even when this was something that rattled her. Unsettled, she rested her chin on the top of Rin’s head and looked away, towards the closed window. Thinking. “But that’s never an excuse. Forcing our feelings unto others, be it love or protectiveness… if you don’t consider their feelings, even love will become a burden.”

Rin turned in her arms, further hiding into Laura’s embrace, burrowing into her warmth as if they could become one if she tried hard enough.

“Is that why you never objected to me leaving the library?” she asked after a long silence.

Laura closed her eyes, swallowing. The fear of the impending separation was acute, a sword hanging over her head that she could never forget. Even as they were, closely tangled together, she felt it, piercing, the fear of what would happen when Rin left to pursue her dreams: if they would be able to maintain a long distance relationship, if they would not drift apart.

Rin was so bright, and beautiful, and who was to say she wouldn’t find someone better than Laura, someone more akin to her, that could offer her way more than a modest home and a silent library?

Laura, however, didn’t allow herself to dwell on these thoughts. She allowed them to pass through her, painful and cutting as they were, before letting them fade.

She let them go.

“I want you to be happy,” she told Rin at last. This was a truth that shone bright within her, a twin sun to the truth that was her love for the android. “I want to support you. We can deal with the rest as it comes.”

“I love you,” Rin whispered, sudden and intense, and even though Laura knew it already she still shook with it-- with the burning devotion and adoration she felt for the android, the humble awe of having been able to come to a point in her life in which she’d lie in bed with a person she loved so much it was earth shattering, and who loved her as much, if in her own way, in return.

Unable to help herself, Laura wiggled in bed so she could kiss Rin, peppering her face with kisses until the android was squirming under her playful adoration, a grin like the sun lighting up her face.

It took them a while to settle down, and when they did, they kissed slowly, languidly, until Laura was on the brink of sleep. Rin would get up in a couple of hours because she didn’t need to rest like humans did, but Laura didn’t mind it, happy with the little moments they did have to themselves.  


The little moments they had built in which they met half-way, satisfying to both android and human.

“I love you too,” Laura whispered, and sleep took her before she saw Rin’s adoringly smiling down at her.


	2. Not Okay

The hours passed slowly in the darkness, and when Gavin couldn’t stand it anymore, he got silently out of bed.

He was careful, mindful not to disturb the person beside him. He spent five full minutes slithering out of the covers, moving one careful inch at a time even though he knew from experience that his bedmate would not awake from just this. 

When he was finally safely out of bed, he stopped to peer down at her, making certain she had not awoken.

She had not.

Tina slept on her side, clad in the old pair of flannel Hogwarts pajamas she left at Gavin’s place, dark hair spread over the pillow. As he watched her breathe evenly, Gavin couldn’t help the rush of love he felt for her, the only person who had stuck with him for most of his adult life.

Tiptoeing out of his bedroom was piece of cake.

However, once he closed the door to his living room behind him, he stopped.

Like Tina’s presence had been his personal talisman, an overwhelming loneliness crashed over Gavin at the sight of the empty space in the couch closest to the door. It was dumb, but he was not used to seeing it empty. There was someone missing, a tall figure that loved to read deep into the night, a soft light fluttering, bathing it’s surroundings in gentle blue.

Upset, Gavin shook himself.

He didn’t miss him.

I didn’t hurt to think of him.

He was okay.

A small chirp and a dull thud at the end of the room alerted Gavin of Fliss’ presence. Indeed, the striped calico was soon twirling affectionately between his ankles, looking up at him with intelligent, if expectant, eyes.

With a weak smile, Gavin bent down to effortlessly pick her up. The cat cuddled up to him, for the moment content to be held tummy up and cradled like a baby, and Gavin felt some of the tension he was carrying palpably leave his shoulders.

Humming, he kissed the top of the cat’s little head, overcome with affection.

This was a nightly ritual for them, even if there was one person missing (_ no, no _ , Gavin scolded himself stubbornly, _ there was no one missing _). It was natural for Gavin to go to the couch, Fliss a grounding weight on his arms, and settle down, burrowing into his favorite pile of blankets-- some new, some old and worn, having collected them through the years.

Still, even as Fliss rearranged herself right on top of Gavin’s chest and began to purr and knead, Gavin felt the weight of anxiety quicken his heart, trying to toss him into a panic. Belatedly, he regretted not having made himself a mug of honeyed milk, something warm to drink to help him dissipate the cold that was beginning to grip his insides.

Gavin sighed, exhausted.

He was too tired for this.

He pulled out his phone almost as a reflex. He didn’t derive any joy from browsing through his usual comics and funny cat video compilations, although he tried. Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin could see an empty gap on his book shelf, the one that usually held his old fantasy books. The empty space of the missing book was like a void, deep and dark and unknowable.

Gavin ignored it.

It was okay.

He was okay.

Gavin kept on reading, uselessly. Even at his worst, he could usually find comfort in the stories he had read a thousand times-- dumb pirates, or magic, or people struggling to live in a post apocaliptic world. Tonight, however, he couldn’t concentrate. All his favorite parts fell flat, devoid of the warmth that usually got him through the night. 

As if his body was attuned to what was missing, Gavin could feel the absence of that one book like a chill on his skin, the gap like an empty eye watching him.

Empty.

With a sudden movement that made Fliss startle awake, Gavin stood from the couch and aggressively re-arranged the books so there was no gap. It was clumsy, and messy, but after he was done the shelf looked more or less full again, with no sign that something was missing.

_ Good _, Gavin thought, viciously, gritting his teeth.

There was not a sign of hesitation as he went to the kitchen and rummaged through the drawer closest to the window. When he returned to the couch, he had in his hand his dose of sleeping pills --the ones he stubbornly never took because he hated the grogginess and powerlessness of forced sleep. He swallowed the pills dry, throwing back his head as if in defiance, and settled down to wait for sleep to take him.

And then, when sleep finally did come, he didn’t remember the way his mind conjured the glow of a blue LED, sending him to sleep protected by the light of his personal night lamp.

* * *

However, as if some deity had been looking Gavin’s way, for once things went all right for him. 

Nines was assigned to Chris Miller, which freed Gavin from the very real fear of having to work with the android as well as having to frequently see him. Gavin had worked with Chris before. He was a good man, kind, and although Gavin refused to acknowledge it, he was glad it was him that Nines was assigned to, certain in the knowledge that Chris was the best option to ease someone like Nines into police work.

(“I hate it,” Nines had said a lifetime ago, the liar. He’d been standing in the middle of Gavin’s living room, his LED blinking all colours as he thought, and Gavin had almost smiled to see the metaphorical gears turning in the android’s head, a sight he had found endearing-- and no, Gavin was so not going to think about that.)

After the disaster that was the break room, it was evident that Nines was trying to get Gavin alone to talk. Gavin, however, was having none of it. He’d taken as much shifts as he could, making sure to be as busy as possible. Still, in the next month Nines managed to corner him on three separate occasions. Two of those Gavin navigated graciously, managing to use something or other as an excuse to ignore the android. 

The third time, however, Nines had caught him unawares. 

It had been the middle of the night, and the precinct was blessedly silent, as it often was when only the skeleton crew remained behind. Gavin liked the silence. He worked better alone, without distractions, and that night he was running on six cups of coffee. He was tired, of course, but only enough to make his mind pleasantly empty. He was completely absorbed by the puzzle of a case, attention only spared for occasional glances to his phone, where a camera feed showed him Fliss’ midnight wanderings.

All in all, Gavin had been so relaxed for once, that he’d failed to notice the steps coming up to his desk until the person was right beside him.

“Detective,” said a familiar voice he knew, and then, so soft it was barely a whisper. “Gavin.”

Although he hated his body’s reaction, Gavin flinched. His heart sped up, a rush of adrenaline washing over him, a fight or flight response he was very familiar with, given his line of work. Still, because it had been long since Gavin had trained his body to obey him, he looked up in defiance, expression hard, clenching his hands into fists as not to give away how his hands trembled.

Nines was towering above him, and the pang Gavin felt when he looked at him was almost physical in its intensity. The android was wearing the blue police uniform, a fitted, dark thing that made him look taller than he was, broader, stronger. 

Harsher. 

Gavin disliked it immediately, almost as much as he disliked the longing he felt for those sweet blue eyes, for the LED fluttering uncertainly on the android’s temple.

“Plastic,” Gavin bit out. Suddenly, as if all his tension had concentrated on one part of his body, his shoulders hurt. Belatedly, he noticed he was clenching his jaw, and Gavin worked it discreetly, trying not to appear vulnerable. “The fuck you want?”

The hurt was obvious in the way the android’s LED went red, and Gavin buried the wave of guilt under the raw pain he still felt whenever he thought of Nines.

“I wanted...to explain myself, I thought…” Nines began, and no, Gavin was not listening to this. He couldn’t.

“I don’t care about any of your crap,” he said, standing from his desk in a movement so aggressive that his chair rolled several feet away, hitting the desk behind him.

Even standing, Nines felt impossibly taller than him, and on instinct Gavin’s brain began to search for escape routes.

“Gavin, please…” Nines pleaded, taking a step forward, and it was perhaps dumb, but Gavin didn’t know if it was his name or that simple movement made him feel cornered.

“Shut up!” he hissed, and suddenly it was not Nines towering in front of him. The man in his mind was also tall, but his eyes were brown, also pleading, both hands extended towards Gavin in an open gesture.

_ Gavin, you’re being unreasonable _, the man began. His voice implied it was Gavin who was overreacting, dramatic Gavin, always too much and never enough, and no--

No.

Gavin was not dealing with that.

“What the fuck is it you don’t understand?” he lashed out, snarling. “You were--you fucking _ worked _ for me. I _ paid _ you. We’re not--friends, so leave me the fuck alone you shitty piece of plastic!”

“Gavin!”

Hank’s voice thundered across the precinct, filling the air with disapproval for an awful second, and Gavin froze on instinct, as if struck by lightning. Something twisted in his chest, vicious and ugly, the thin silver chain around his neck biting his skin with ice-cold cruelty.

Gavin turned to Hank, teeth bared, and had he been a cat he would have been all puffed up, ears down, ready to launch himself into danger rather than give an inch.

Nines must have known it as well because he moved towards Hank --away from Gavin, enough that the man could breathe again-- and began, “Hank, this is not…”

_ Hank _.

Gavin grimaced in contempt, Nines’ informality with Hank burning in a different way. However, now Gavin had space to breathe, to think, and ignoring Hank and Nines’ conversation he turned around and left the precinct. 

It was time for him to go home anyway.

* * *

Nines didn’t approach him again after that. Still, because Miller’s desk was behind Gavin’s, he felt Nines watching whenever they were in the precinct at the same time.

Gavin didn’t give a fuck. He had already found a new pet-sitter for Fliss, so whatever had happened between them was done and over with as far as Gavin was concerned.

He made sure to feed the cats when he knew Nines was on duty, and was grateful that at least this simple thing had remained unspoiled by the situation.

And yet, because Gavin had not made it to detective out of sheer luck, he couldn’t help but notice Nines’ transformation as it happened before his own eyes. The android looked stiffer everyday, the words that floated to Gavin’s ears when he didn’t have enough sense to make enough noise, shorter, more robotic. His LED was continuously amber, no longer flickering happy blue, and although his face was as stoic as always, it was impossible for Gavin not to know what that meant: Nines was miserable.

_ Good _, the worst part of Gavin piped up, the cruel part of him that thought that Nines deserved it. He viciously suppressed his other, kinder part (the one that cared for strays and had noticed the lonely android in the alley) that pointed out how this didn’t make sense, because shouldn’t Nines be happy in the DPD, now that he had gotten what he wanted? 

“Gavin?” Tina called him, and by the tone of his voice Gavin knew this was not the first time she had said his name.

“I’m fine,” he answered immediately, and knew this was the wrong answer when Tina frowned. Gavin inwardly cursed, backtracking enough into the conversation to find an appropriate response. “Pasta is okay, though. You know you don’t have to cook.”

“You’re overworked and exhausted,” Tina informed him, not taking the bait. “Stop being stubborn and come home and rest.”

“I’m okay,” he reassured her, because Tina had already been staying with him for one month and he didn’t want to create more problems for her. “You should go home.”

“Only if you come with me,” she countered, as stubborn as he was, and Gavin didn’t know what to feel about the fact that she could read him like an open book. 

Gavin waved her away, sipping on his sixth cup of coffee, shrugging like Tina wasn’t there at night, talking him through his nightmares. Like she wasn’t aware of those other times he didn’t sleep. Like she didn’t know him.

Tina narrowed her eyes at him, and she had already opened her mouth to say something Gavin knew he wouldn’t want to hear, when Gavin’s phone rang, the ID of the coroner clear on the sleek screen.

“Don’t think we’re finished here, Gavin Marshall Reed!” she warned, and Gavin smirked at her use of his not-middle name even as he answered the phone, grateful for the distraction. He knew he couldn’t fend off Tina’s concern forever, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try his damned best.

* * *

So all in all, the surprise was that things didn’t actually go worse.

The house was empty, dark, and it might have been uninhabited except for the footprints clearly visible on the thick layer of dust that coated the floor. Pearson’s steps were light behind Gavin, and they didn’t need any words for this part. The woman climbed the stairs with confident efficiency just as Gavin kept swiping the ground floor, methodically checking rooms almost without thought, instinct having long since taken over.

Tina had warned him, of course. She’d scolded him that very morning-- Gavin was too tired, barely having slept at all in god knows how long, too overworked, and he worked in homicide.

“You’re taking a break after this,” she’d announced, hands on her hips, in a tone that booked no discussion. “You’re not going to kill yourself on my watch.” 

Gavin had dismissed her, of course, like the awful friend he was, and that’s what ran through his mind as the shadow of a person jumped from behind a bookshelf, a cord that turned out to be a TV cable in his hands.

Gavin took the first punch squarely on the cheek, his reflexes kicking in too slowly for him to duck. It was all very quick. Suddenly he hit a wall, losing the grip on his gun in the struggle to breathe, the cord tightening painfully around his neck.

It was merely luck and Pearson’s quick reaction that prevented Gavin from receiving worse wounds than a black eye and a bruised throat.

Gavin was subdued when he returned to the precinct. Pearson was silent all the way back, and Gavin was grateful for the stern woman’s consideration. He worked well with her, he liked to believe, enough that she had confided she wanted to make it to detective. Gavin appreciated the honesty and helped her as much and as unobtrusively as he could, and maybe this was why she silently nodded, accepting his thanks without fuss when he thanked her for saving his butt with a raspy, croaky voice.

God, Tina was going to kill him.

However, Tina was nowhere to be seen when Gavin returned to the precinct. By the time he finished debriefing Captain Fowler, his face had swollen, the bruises on his neck a bright red Gavin knew would soon change to deep purple.

Several hours passed until Gavin allowed himself to accept it was time to go home. He sent a message to Tina, warning her of what had happened, and he was closing his locker when the door to the changing room opened and closed and the person that entered stopped on their tracks, probably at the sight of Gavin’s face.

Gavin sighed but put on a sharp smile to make a joke and dismiss his wounds. However, when he turned, it was to Nines standing in front of the door, staring, his LED a tapestry of yellow and orange and red.

The wave of shame was as strong as unexpected, and Gavin averted his eyes, unable to see whatever play of emotion went through Nines’ face. Instead, he picked up his backpack from the floor and slammed the door of his locker closed, the sound too loud in the silence of the night.

Nines didn’t move.

Heart thundering on his chest, Gavin walked towards the door, stubbornly refusing to look at the android. His steps echoed in the space between them, the sound making the tense silence more awkward than it already was.

For a second, Gavin thought he might make it past Nines without comment. The android didn’t move from where he was rooted in front of the door, and Gavin was only two steps away from him when Nines’ voice stopped him.

“Gavin,” Nines said, a tiny, hurt sound that made Gavin freeze, the pull he felt towards Nines so strong he was unable to keep moving.

For an endless moment, everything in Gavin thrummed with the desire to turn toward the android and rest his head on Nines’ shoulder, for Gavin’s body still recognized Nines as a safe haven much against his mind’s wishes.

He fought with himself for an endless moment, and even as he did, he knew it was too late and he had hesitated for too long. Nines’ body turned towards him, soothing warmth emanating from him, and Gavin closed his eyes, his injury a constant pulse on dull pain in synch with his racing heartbeat.

Gentle --of so very gentle-- fingertips traced the edges of the bruise on his face. Gavin shuddered at the touch, too touch starved and exhausted to suppress his reaction. Nines had come closer still, and he smelled as always, like pine and some sort of old-fashioned deterget even when he wasn’t wearing his usual dumb oversized jumper.

And Gavin--Gavin wanted...

Nines’ touched firmed under Gavin’s chin, making the man raise his head and expose his neck. Vulnerable. “You are injured.”

Gavin reared back, eyes snapping open.

“Don’t touch me!” he growled, or tried to, because his throat was too raw to produce such an ugly sound. But Gavin had heard those exact same words before, when he had been wounded and trusted Nines in what felt like a lifetime away. He had fallen asleep to that voice, and suddenly everything hurt so much that Gavin felt the prickle of tears on the corner of his eyes, tears he couldn’t allow to fall. “Don’t you--don’t you dare fucking touch me!”

Nines took a step back even as his LED settled into red. “Please, detective...I just want to help.”

“No!” Gavin bellowed. It hurt to shout, everything hurt, what was wrong with him, he only wanted it to stop, he’d been doing so well. “Why the fuck do you even care about me, asshole?” he bit out. “Just get out of my way!”

“I can’t. I...I the things I feel for you…” Nines trailed off, and under the weight of the half-confesion that Gavin was not too dense not to understand, the only thing that he could think was that it was unfair.

It was unfair that feelings came up _ now _, like this, trapped and hidden in a locker room instead of out in the open. Unfair because this was something Gavin had wanted, but not--not like this, surrounded by harsh words and lies and bitterness.

Anger welled up, overwhelming the hurt enough for Gavin to gather enough presence of mind to walk the remaining steps towards the door and slam it behind him, the sound echoing in the hallway with a hint of finality.

He was still pissed when he stormed past his desk, but for once he was not distracted enough not to notice that something had been disturbed. A book rested neatly on top of his files, and the old faded cover and crinkled familiar spine made Gavin’s mouth turn down in a grimace.

In a fit of spite, Gavin grabbed the book by a corner, like it was dirty and not something that had been with him for almost thirty years, and with careful indifference dropped it into the trash.

He didn’t have a need for such things.

When Gavin left the precinct, the only thing out of place was the battered copy of _ The Return of the King _ peeking from between food wrappers and discarded papers.

* * *

Gavin was still pacing when Tina opened the door.

The lights were out. There was a sort of irony to it, if Gavin thought about it, because this was something he had often mocked Nines for doing. 

But he wasn’t thinking about Nines. 

Gavin was pacing through his dark living room, the only light the dirty yellow stripes filtering through the blinds from the lamp on the street.

This time, not even Fliss had been enough to distract Gavin. The cat was looking at him from high up the cat shelves Gavin had installed for her, tail swishing back and forth as if she could sense Gavin’s mood. Her eyes were serious as she watched him, intelligent, and not for the first time Gavin wondered what she saw when she looked at him-- if she deserved to have such a fuck up for an owner. The only reason he had never acted on that thought in the years since she had followed him home was because Gavin knew it was him who couldn’t ever part from her.

Tina’s eyes were similarly alert when she opened the door to find Gavin in the dark. With controlled motions, she took off her shoes at the door, hung her police jacket next to Gavin’s leather one. 

The light she turned on wasn’t the harsh one affixed to the ceiling, but a side lamp that bathed everything in a comforting amber light.

Although he hadn’t bothered to look into a mirror, Gavin refused to look at Tina. His eye had swollen shut in the past hour or so, and he had seen enough bruises to know how battered he must look.

He felt more than saw Tina come to him and he tensed on instinct, too worked up from everything to be able to control his own reactions. However, Tina’s hands were soft when they brushed his hair out of his forehead, lightly turning his head this way and that to assess the damage. 

Tina’s hands were rough, calloused, strong even in their gentleness, and something within Gavin finally began to uncoil at the physical contact.

He knew this touch.

Blindly, he allowed himself to be sat on a stool as Tina tended to him. He hissed when a cold bag of ice was pressed against his eye, but he accepted the discomfort because Tina’s presence was safe and soothing, and he felt like he might shatter into a million pieces if she stopped touching him.

Gavin lost track of time for a little while, and the next thing he knew was that he was on the couch, dressed in his rattiest and softest pajamas with Fliss curled on his lap and a warm cup of something fragrant pressed against his chest. When he sipped it, it turned out to be chamomile sweetened with honey, and the familiar taste brought with it a sense of well-being that was a blessed break from the storm that raged inside him.

He had made this exact tea for Tina too, not even a year ago, after a nasty break up.

It wasn’t long until Tina’s soft steps gave away her presence. She was wearing her pajamas as well, the sight making Gavin smile slightly. The Harry Potter pajamas were an old joke between them, from the time Gavin called Tina Cho Chang to be annoying. It had devolved into Gavin showering Tina with all the bootleg Ravenclaw merchandise he could get his hands on, the uglier the better. 

Tina still had some things from that time --an ugly misshapen keychain and a couple of equally hideous mugs-- but nothing as beloved as the soft flannel pajamas, that Gavin made sure to replace every so often even if Tina always punched him when she opened yet another set of identical pajamas.

(Gavin would never let her know how he still had a half full box hidden on the back of his closet: he enjoyed Tina’s look of disbelief too much to confess his secret.)

Tina was quiet at first as she watched him drink, the silence as comfortable as the blanket she had draped over Gavin’s shoulders. She sat with her feet under her, head slightly tilted, her wet, dark hair falling over one shoulder. She seemed to be waiting, although for what, Gavin was not certain.

“What happened?” she asked at long last, and Gavin immediately knew what she meant without her having to say it.

And for the first time since the half-explanation he had given her after that awful day Nines had walked into the precinct, Gavin opened his mouth and spoke. He told Tina about the lonely hunched figure feeding the cats, about the android’s soft voice, his awkward ways. He talked about a strange night in the fire escape when Gavin couldn’t sleep, the way the android’s eyes lit up whenever Gavin looked at him, his obvious love for Fliss. He told Tina about that night on his birthday, when he had returned hurt and Nines had taken care of him so gently, of the intimacy of falling asleep to a deep, soothing voice.

He told Tina about the locker room, and Nines’ eyes full of worry, of the half-confession.

It took Gavin a very long time to tell the whole story, but now that he had started he found easier to keep talking. Tina listened to everything in impartial silence, standing only to refill Gavin’s mug when it became empty.

And it hurt to speak. 

It hurt because Gavin’s throat was damaged, his voice coming out gravelly and rough, as if it were full of glass. And also, it hurt because his heart was battered too, and some of the things he told his friend he had not dared to accept even to himself.

But still Gavin talked as he hadn’t dared to at first, always afraid he’d be too much for Tina, his deepest fear too close to be able to rationalize it away as he usually did.

The silence after Gavin finished talking was deafening, and with it, the hollowness in Gavin’s chest grew, making him numb. He wished he could feel guilty for not telling Tina --his best friend-- the whole story until now. Or hurt. Or something other beside the exhaustion. But there was nothing, and Gavin thought that was just right. He had lived through worse things after all. Perhaps this didn’t merit any hurt, compared to that.

It was, of course, Tina’s voice that broke the silence. “Gavin…” she whispered, her voice so gentle and pained that Gavin gritted his teeth, feeling it worm under his skin until his heart ached in answer.

“I’m okay, Teeny,” Gavin said, clinging to his mantra like a child to a security blanket. “It was all mostly my fault anyway.”

Tina frowned. “How was it your fault that he deceived you?”

“I met him like five months ago.Too soon to feel whatever I thought I felt towards him,” Gavin shrugged, because it was true. “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.”

“Gavin Augusto Reed,” she said, and uh oh, that was The Name. It was the name Tina called him by when she wanted to murder him... except something was wrong because her voice was soft, so very soft and kind. “You’re not okay.”

Gavin almost didn’t see her move, but tender hands were pulling him down, down, until his head was resting against a warm chest, mindful of the injured half of his face.

“Teeny…” Gavin began, but his friend merely hushed him. 

Tina cradled Gavin against her chest, tucking his head on the crook her neck and resting her chin on his hair. She held him firmly at first, hands smoothing over his back as Gavin melted against her, but it wasn’t until she began to hum a lullaby that Gavin felt the first sob leave him with a strength he didn’t think he had left in him.

Tina’s arms tightened their hold on him.

And finally --finally!-- since the day Gavin felt his heart ripped from his chest and stomped on, like a dam had finally broken he allowed himself to cry. He cried because he felt lost, and confused, but also because he felt betrayed by someone he had dared to trust after he had fought so hard with himself. 

He cried because he missed Nines, and also because he felt hurt, wounds from the past dragged to the present by the android’s thoughtless actions.

But also, although his feelings were complicated, he cried for simple things too: because Tina’s embrace was warm, and her voice was kind, and he was certain he didn’t deserve her loyalty, and he loved her so much it hurt as well.

That was a long dark night, but all through it Tina held him, and safe and secure in the cocoon of warmth his friend had so lovingly created for him, Gavin finally rested.


	3. Tea with Mrs Parker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot how to word ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

There is something strangely terrible about how, even when the worst imaginable thing happens, life still goes on. 

Terrible, because the sun still goes up, and people wake up to their normal routines, the city busy, uncaring if someone somewhere is having the best day of their lives or has had their heart broken.

For Nines, as well, it happened like that. When his days were dull and slow, and he wasn’t able to find neither a purpose or direction, the world still went on.

When he began to discover himself, when he tentatively made bonds with other people, relishing for the first time a life that was separate from his programming, the world still went on.

And when the worst happened, something so terrible and unexpected that had left him reeling, frozen in place as his systems struggled to make sense of Gavin’s betrayed eyes hidden under anger and vicious words, well...the world still went on then too.

“You know you can stay as long as you want, right?” Rin offered. Her voice was anxious, and she was so short that she had to crane her neck to look at Nines, and Nines felt so much love for his friend that his LED blinked red for a moment before settling back into peaceful blue.

“I know,” he answered, seriously, and because he couldn’t smile at her to reassure her, he bent down to press his forehead against hers for a moment, a gesture of affection they had come up with during the long nights Nines had spent in Laura and Rin’s couch, when Nines had been too overwhelmed to verbalize properly. “You and Laura have been really kind, allowing me to stay. I’m aware you have been spoiling me, but I can’t help but think that if I keep being spoiled right now, I might lose track of other important things.”

Rin seemed unhappy, but nodded.

“There’s nothing wrong with letting others care for you, Nines,” Laura called out. While Rin was all ready to go to work, Laura had taken a day off due to a cold. She was watching the androids say goodbye from the porch of her house, and the sight of her now, dark hair messily thrown over a shoulder, nose red, and wrapped in an ugly striped dressing gown, made Nines feel humbly grateful he had people that trusted him enough to allow him to see these sides of them. “If you ever need us, we, and the library, will always be there for you.”

“Thank you,” Nines choked out, pulling away from Rin to slightly bow his head towards Laura in acknowledgment of the words he still had trouble believing were meant for him. “I...me too,” he tried, struggling with words as he tried to convey everything he felt for a long moment before he gave up. “Me too,” he repeated in the end, and perhaps he had somehow managed to express what he meant, because Laura’s eyes were warm, and Rin’s grin was blinding.

Settling down, Nines smiled at them too, the LED on his temple blinking blue, blue, blue.

* * *

The following month or so was a very difficult time for Nines.

Terrible, yes, but not in the way he expected.

When he’d open the door to his apartment after he’d come back from Rin’s place after that disastrous day on the DPD, he’d been welcomed back by nothing but cold emptiness.

Everything was still. For a moment, Nines fancied that even the dust was frozen in time, stuck in that morning that seemed an eternity ago. 

It hurt now, to think about it-- about how happy he’d been, how hopeful. 

Everything was exactly where Nines had left it, and suddenly, this room, with Cecil’s drawing, and a mirror, a couch, a side table and a blanket, appeared to him incredibly empty.

However, Nines pushed those feelings aside. The reason he’d left Rin and Laura’s home was, among other things, that he had made the executive decision of fixing the misunderstanding between him and Gavin. The objective blinked in his HUB, red and bold and Most Important, and it was this determination that allowed Nines to push past the feelings that might have sunk him otherwise.

During the following weeks, Nines made it his number one priority to talk to Gavin about what happened. He gathered all the information available to him about Gavin’s schedule to try and talk to him: during breaks, after shifts, in odd moments Nines saw as opportunities.

However, getting Gavin alone, as easy as it sounded, was way harder than Nines had anticipated. Gavin was constantly surrounded by people. He had an aura of intensity around him that affected those he worked with. The man was loud —Connor would have said obnoxious— and sharp, rough in his friendliness. 

It made something hot twist in Nines’ chest, to see him like this, a person Nines didn’t recognize. There wasn’t a trace of softness in this man, the trusting sleepy eyes and looped half-smiles nowhere to be found. And for the life of him, Nines couldn’t decide how that made him feel, the hot sensation in his chest too complex to untangle. Jealousy, yes, because he wanted to be the focus of Gavin’s attention once more. Longing, because he missed Gavin’s low voice, raspy and unwarded, the way his eyes danced before looking away when he didn’t want to admit he found something funny. But also fierce pride and possessiveness, because he had seen a side of Gavin he now understood not many people were privy to.

And so he kept trying to talk to Gavin every chance he got, even when it was evident the man was trying his utmost best to avoid him. 

Furthermore, Nines hated how his duties got in the way of that. He had long shifts that seldom coincided with Gavin’s, so as the weeks went by it became rarer and rarer that they were at the precinct at the same time. Nines had been partnered with officer Miller, which the android found objectively agreeable even when the most selfish part of him couldn’t help but judge his every action just because he wasn’t Gavin.

Still, Nines did his duty to the best of his ability because, one, his protocols pushed him for it, and two, because it was essential to his objective to protect Gavin. He had told Captain Fowler how he aspired to be a detective --for the chance to be partnered with Gavin’s side, not because it was something he particularly wanted-- and the captain had assured him it was a possible path for him as long as he fulfilled his tasks successfully. 

And so every night Nines arrived to his silent, empty apartment, and because he felt like he was about to be crushed by the enormity of some invisible weight he didn’t quite understand, he settled on his green armchair, wrapped himself in his blanket —that was not as fluffy as his favorite one back at Gavin’s place— and read.

It was only when Nines was reading that he was truly happy. For some hours, he could forget about everything, and be free in the warm company of kind and courageous people that always found a way to overcome whatever awful things life threw at them. 

So Nines read every night, avidly as a starving man would eat a banquet, and these precious hours were the only thing that allowed him to keep going in those ugly moments when the sky began to change into grey and the beginning of his shift approached, and Nines felt his body become sluggish with his reluctance to go back to work.

* * *

It was at the end of one long, awful day-- one of those days Nines was having more of recently-- that Nines met Mrs Parker again.

It hadn’t been much, merely a confrontation about a parking ticket. The owner of the car had gotten angry, and thrown a punch in officer Miller’s direction. 

Nines’ protocols kicked in without his permission. 

When he noticed, it was him who had the man pinned against his car, his hand tightened so strongly around one of the man’s wrists that Nines knew it would bruise. It was all very quick, and officer Miller soon had arrested the man, but even after they were back in the precinct, even after hours had passed, Nines couldn’t shake off the feeling of disgust that clung to his skin like dirt, couldn’t shake off the fear he felt at that moment of blankness in which he had not been in control of himself.

So it had been early still when Nines had entered the alley. 

Immediately, two orange heads peeked from behind one of the trash cans. It was #1 who came out first, tail high in greeting, and twirled between Nines’ legs as he had taken to doing of late.

The second cat was shier, but still she followed her brother out of their hiding place, and Nines’ heart soared because this was a recent development too. #5 was an orange tabby too, although her chest and front paws were white where #1 was all stripes. Unlike #1, she swished her tail from side to side in nervous movements, and Nines knew that he’d have to move very slowly as not to startle her back into hiding.

With the practiced efficiency of a routine, Nines cleaned and refilled the cats’ bowls.

#4, the matriarch, and #7 and #8, the youngest of the cats, came dutifully to eat as usual when Nines took a step back, and the android left them to it. Looking around for the (one) yellow-green eye of the cat he hadn’t seen since that day long ago when the cat had staged an intervention to free #1 from Gavin’s apartment.

In a last ditch effort, he shook the bag of kibble, looking around, his thirium pump sinking with disappointment when #9 failed to appear again. 

It was like all of his good luck had disappeared with #9, he thought, a strange hurt welling up, the wound in his chest --the one he was ignoring— tearing open a little more every second.

_ Don’t _, he scolded himself, struggling with the emotion. He tried to steel himself, to push past the awful feelings as he had been doing, to no avail. It was like this was the final thing, the drop of water that finally broke the dam, and Nines was unable to suppress his feelings any longer.

Unnecessarily, he swallowed.

He tried not to look at Gavin’s dark window. He really, really did. He hadn’t allowed himself to dwell too much on his feelings, but in that moment, for some reason, he had to accept the truth: he missed #9, and he missed Felicia, and he missed Gavin and the quiet peacefulness of his books and Gavin’s apartment.

He missed the library, and Emma and Peter and Laura. He wanted to be able to see Rin everyday, and he wanted to wear that ugly apron again and maybe try and get the courage to read to the children.

It was unfair, Nines thought. It was unfair that things had turned out like this. But most of all, Nines thought, shaking, it was unfair that he had not been given the ability to cry.

His processors were so overtaxed with processing all of these feelings that he didn’t hear the pair of steps coming into the alley, or the cheery young voice that greeted him as Mr Nines.

He was not aware of the woman’s low voice giving the boy some excuse of an errand. He only noticed he wasn’t alone when someone walked around him to be well within his field of vision before a warm hand came to rest softly on his arm.

“Come along, Mr Nines,” Mrs Parker said, guiding him out of the alley with the same gentle patience she used to guide young Oliver to bed when the boy fell asleep watching TV. “Let’s have that cup of tea.”

* * *

After that, having tea with Mrs Parker became a usual occurrence.

Mrs Parker’s apartment was very different from all the other places Nines’ knew. Much unlike Nines’, which was half empty, and Gavin’s, which was somewhere in between, Mrs Parker’s was filled with things in a way that made the clutter look orderly.

Bookcases full with old fashioned books with matching covers, cabinets with figurines and crafts that were very obviously Oliver’s. There were pictures on the walls, prints of famous paintings and photos of smiling people that must be Mrs Parker’s family. 

And there were flowers. From the dainty wallpaper to the lacy tablecloth, Mrs Parker had flowers everywhere. Small colorful pots gave life to the apartment, pretty green leaves spilling from them more often than not.

It was a nice place, in an old fashioned sort of way. 

Furthermore, Mrs Parker’s routines were like clockwork, which was something that comforted Nines greatly. Whenever his shift ended, he could always count on knowing exactly what Mrs Parker and Oliver would be doing when he rang the doorbell. So after that first day, in which Mrs Parker talked softly to him and wrapped his hands around a cup that turned out to be full of a new brand of thirium based beverage similar to tea, Nines would often drop by in the evenings.

“Oliver would benefit from a role model such as you, Mr Nines,” Mrs Parker had told him, seriously, and Nines had clung to the offer like a lifeline.

It was nice, and every time he dropped by, both Oliver and Mrs Parker made him feel so welcome that Nines decided not to worry about anything else. It became a highlight of Nines’ day to sit with his own version of thirium tea, something warm he could sip while Mrs Parker cooked dinner or Oliver did his homework.

It was almost like having a home.

And as a couple of weeks went by, Nines allowed himself to be completely enveloped by that rush of happiness that comes from new friendships. For him, who had been so lonely in the past, it was a pleasure to get to know others. He marveled at how different people could be -- because the more his fondness for Mrs Parker grew, the more this systems seemed to place her in the same category as Rin.

Friend. 

But Mrs Parker was not Rin. 

Sometimes, Nines was startled when the woman expressed a completely different opinion, in a completely different way, than Rin would have. Mrs Parker was harsher, more confident, steely in her convictions, and although he liked her, this side of her sometimes made Nines cower, to take a mental step back, not knowing how to answer.

Still, it was a comfort to know that whenever he had a truly terrible day, or the loneliness became too much, Nines could knock on Mrs Parker’s green door and the woman would unfailingly sit him down and make him a cup of tea.

* * *

He went to Mrs Parker’s after the first time he returned to the library.

Nines’ second day off found him in the library first thing in the morning.

It was too early when he arrived, but still he found Rin in the garden, watering her plants. Relieved, Nines helped, trying not to dwell on the way Gavin was still giving him the cold shoulder and instead trying to cling to the happiness he felt that #5, the round-faced white and orange sister of #1, had finally followed his example and rubbed against Nines’ legs that morning for the first time.

The silence of the library was like a comforting blanket as it enveloped Nines, soothing and welcome. As he began the monotonous task of classifying books to put back into their respective shelves, he felt something within himself relax, an ugly tension he hadn’t been aware he’d been carrying finally leaving him.

Nines gave himself fully to his tasks, and Rin and Peter’s easy talk almost made him feel things were okay.

The only blemish in an otherwise excellent day was the way Emma refused to look at him, and when she talked she did it like Nines wasn’t there at all. 

“She’ll come around,” Peter tried to soothe him, resting a hand on Nines’ shoulder. “She was very worried for you when you suddenly disappeared. She’ll get over it.”

That, more than anything, was what made Nines realize that he had left the library without a word or explanation towards either Emma or Peter. Back then, he’d been too wrapped in his own feelings to consider the repercussions of his actions. In all honesty, never in a million years would he have imagined he could hurt _ Emma _ with his choices, but…

“It’s the bonds we share with others,” Mrs Parker told him that evening, over a cup of tea, when they sat down to talk at the end of the day. Through the open window, they could hear Oliver’s faint giggles and squeals as the boy played with the cats in the grass in front of the building. “If you’re alone, you have more freedom, I believe. Your actions impact less people, so you can do what you want.”

“But being lonely is such a terrible thing,” Nines put in, frowning, because even if things were bad right now, he’d take this without hesitation over those long, awful, empty days, when he could not even talk to someone to make sure he was alive.

“Of course,” Mrs Parker agreed. “So we forge bonds, and we’re less lonely, but then we have to accept that our actions affect others, no matter how unwittingly.”

And Nines looked down, unhappily, because that was something he had only just begun to realize, and he thought that perhaps the lesson came at too high a cost.

* * *

After the encounter with Gavin in the locker room, Nines went to Rin instead of Mrs Parker’s.

He remembered to warn her this time. Although he didn’t feel like he could speak, a text message was something he could do, and despite feeling anxious as soon as he sent it --what if he overstepped, what if asking Rin for help was inappropriate-- he was immensely reassured by his friend’s quick answer.

He paced Laura and Rin’s living room all night, back and forth, back and forth, unable to sit still as he thought. The image of Gavin, battered and bruised, was imprinted unto his mind, and the fear and longing and regret were too much for Nines to process.

He had wanted to protect Gavin.

He had given up the library, and to a lesser extent the cats, to protect Gavin. 

What was everything for, if he couldn’t do that?

His unrest lasted for a week, kindled by the piercing hurt he’d felt when he’d found _ The Return of the King _ in the trash by Gavin’s desk. The book was now carefully resting over Nines’ meticulously folded blanket, in a nest Nines had made for it as if it had been a living being whose feelings could be hurt and not just an object.

Even after coming back home he was anxious enough that he shared all of this with Mrs Parker over tea, and the woman, who until then had listened to Nines’ problems with patient understanding, frowned.

“Nines, maybe it’s not my place to say this, but you are young, and you have helped me a lot so I will say it,” she began. From across the table, Nines looked up, LED blinking amber in surprise. “Are you sure that choosing the police over the library was the best choice?”

Nines’ thirium pump quickened at these unexpected words. Up until now, his friends, Connor and Rin, had always been accepting of Nines’ choices. This was the first time someone he considered a friend had disagreed with him, and the situation was so foreign and unexpected to him that Nines’ systems blanked for a moment, at a loss of how to react.

“I carefully weighed my options,” he tried. “My preconstructions allowed me to calculate the best way to protect Gavin, and…”

“I don’t mean for the Detective,” Mrs Parker interrupted, stern and concerned. “I mean for _ you _.” 

Nines blinked, taken aback. The wave of defensiveness that rose in his chest was so strong that he clenched his fists before he could catch himself.

“Look, I may not know you that well,” Mrs Parker kept going, unaware of Nines’ feelings. “But, right now, you look…sad. Listless. Before…you had this look in your face. You always walked with determination, like there was somewhere you really wanted to be. Even when I was tending to my flowers, and I saw you pass by, I could tell you were happy,” Nines opened his mouth to speak, for a moment once again forgetting Mrs Parker wasn’t Rin. While his android friend would have stopped to allow him time to gather himself, Mrs Parker kept talking, looking unflinchingly at Nines. “And don’t tell me _ all _ of those mornings had to do with your Detective. There was somewhere else you were going.” 

“I…” Nines tried again. He could feel the panic growing inside him steadily together with his stress levels, and he wanted to flee. He wasn’t even sure what about Mrs Parker’s words made him feel like the world was ending, but he wanted out. To escape.

To run.

“I know you have found someone you want to protect,” she continued. “But making big, life changing decisions based on one person is not fair. For you or for him. And I don’t know what he means to you, because we can’t ever fully understand others but— I’m concerned that you’re making yourself unhappy, missing on life, because you’re too busy chasing after someone that didn’t even have a say in any of this.”

Nines stood from the table then, too upset to properly form words. His LED spun red, red, red. He felt cornered, doubt eating away at him like acid, because while he had come to terms with the fact he’d made a mistake, he hadn’t quite accepted the reason. And now, being confronted by an ugly truth in one of the few places he felt safe, was like a shock to his system, his defense protocols kicking in at the intensity of his feelings.

Unbidden, the memory of Gavin’s battered face came to the front of his mind. 

Gavin had been hurt. 

And even after leaving the library, Nines had been unable to protect him.

It was pure panic that ran through Nines’ veins, corrosive and painful like poison.

“I have to go,” he blurted out before Mrs Parker could speak again. 

He didn’t stay when she called after him. He fled. He ran, unseeing, away, panic nipping at his heels like a vicious dog.

It was unthinkable.

Mrs Parker was wrong.

It had been the right choice.

For Gavin. He was doing it for Gavin.

It took him a while to calm down, and when he did, he noticed with surprise that his protocols had taken him to the park where he usually met Connor. For a moment, he wanted to call him, tell him everything, ask him if perhaps Mrs Parker had been correct in her judgment. 

However, several things happened at the same time.

Pride, that dangerous snake that always sleeps coiled somewhere in our hearts, rose its head to assess the situation. He was not wrong, Nines reasoned, because he had been careful to weigh his decision. However defective he might be in other areas, Nines took pride in his software being one of the most advanced in the world, so it stood to reason his preconstructions would be built in solid logic.

And then, because he was afraid and unsettled, he reasoned that he’d been incredibly needy as of late, and perhaps both Connor and Rin would appreciate a break from his break downs.

Those were the excuses Nines gave himself as to not examine Mrs Parker’s words any further. He immediately felt better, because, even though many things had gone wrong recently, the possibility that he was being unfair to _ Gavin _, of all people, was outright unthinkable. 

Nines paced for a long time while he convinced himself of all this, and when he was finally aware of himself once again, it was already the middle of the night.

And then, although he dreaded to go back, he walked back to his apartment. He was careful to avoid Mrs Parker the next day, and the day after that, unable to face her, but still actively seeked Gavin to talk to him. 

And every day that Mrs Parker didn’t confront him, Nines breathed in relief, because he wasn’t yet ready to talk out what had happened between them. It didn’t occur to Nines how this situation was similar to the other one until almost ten days later, when Mrs Parker’s apology came in the shape of a small potted plant. 

* * *

Nines came back home late one night, tense and uneasy as he always felt after his shift, and there it was, a pretty plant with big satiny leaves and delicate lavender blossoms.

There was a note tucked under it, a neatly folded paper in pretty flowery stationary. When Nines picked it up, it smelled faintly of Mrs Parker perfume.

Nines delicately touched a soft petal with the tip of his finger, and his LED immediately settled back to blue.

Wordlessly, Nines took it inside the flat.

This time, unlike with the rest of his possessions, he didn’t have to think about where to place it. He deposited the colorful pot on his windowsill, and as if a spell had been cast, Nines felt immediately better, although he didn’t know if it was because of the way the small plant brightened up the room, the simple fact of there being another living being in his space, or having finally something to take care of again.

However, Nines didn’t open the letter. 

It sat harmlessly on his counter for all of that night and the following day, and when Nines came back home, once again trying to hide his hurt at another failed attempt to talk to Gavin, his gaze lingered on the note.

Suddenly, compared to Gavin’s cold eyes and his indifferent rebuffs, the situation with Mrs Parker felt less threatening than it had, almost dumb in its simplicity. 

Still, Nines fingered the note, a bit worried about what it might contain. However, there was not much to it. _ With my apologies_, it read, in an elegant flowery script that somewhat ill fit the stern woman. _ I made a mistake and I'm sorry. I’ll be here to say so in person and make amends whenever you feel ready. Margaret_.

The myriad of feelings that coursed through Nines were too tangled for him to distinguish. He looked at the image of his amber LED fluttering red in the mirror, staring as if that would give him a clue of his feelings, and more importantly, _ why _ he felt them.

With a resigned sigh, he sat back down in his green armchair, taking with him the small piece of paper that contained Margaret’s note. He had fought with a friend before — although his argument with Rin had been vastly different— so Nines closed his eyes in concentration, trying to figure out the reason.

One hour later found him not much better. All he knew was that, with Rin, he had been eager to patch things up, not afraid of what else she could say. How else could she hurt him.

He had been willing to listen to her apology.

Thoughtfully, Nines ran a finger over the delicate tulips printed in the stationary.

Apologies.

So far, he had been relentlessly trying to get Gavin alone to talk. Having decided that he could fix things if Gavin would only listen, he’d pressed the issue, pretty much not giving Gavin a break.

For the first time, a novel idea crossed Nines mind: just as he had not been ready to listen to Margaret’s apology, Gavin might not be ready to hear Nines’.

What would he have done, if Margaret had pursued Nines as relentlessly as Nines did Gavin? The shame of the thought was almost like scalding water over him. Heavens, he was a hypocrite. No wonder Gavin didn’t want anything to do with him. He’d been childish and immature, crossing Gavin’s boundaries repeatedly to satisfy his own selfish desires. As wrapped as he was in his own feelings, he had once again forgotten to consider Gavin’s.

After all, just as Nines hadn’t been ready to talk to Mrs Parker, Gavin might not be ready to talk to Nines. Gavin had the same right to his space as Nines did. He had every right not to want to talk to Nines ever again. 

And if he didn’t, Nines had to respect that too.

It was an ugly truth, the mere possibility so painful that a warning popped on his HUB, informing him about his rising stress levels. For an awful moment he felt truly useless. Would he ever be able to stop making mistake after mistake? 

He wanted to hide from this truth too, to protect himself, but deep inside him, Nines still had the hope that things would be alright. It was the hope he clung to every day, the one he recharged every night by reading: he had caused hurt, and he wanted to ease it, if he could.

So because Nines was Nines, he let the guilt and hurt wash over him. He didn’t cower from them this time. It was hard, but there in the room were small things that gave him strength-- a small potted plant, a childish stick drawing, a neon green apron that had been entrusted to him, a book that had already been discarded once.

And it was hard, but he faced it head on, and when the worst was over Nines felt raw, like his thirium pump was an open wound. But because he was himself, under it all, a strong determination bloomed, and he finally knew what to do.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Mrs Parker said when she opened the door the next evening. “Whatever my opinion or advice, I had no right to be cruel in the way I said it, and I was,” she sighed. “It’s something I’m striving to overcome, but that shouldn’t be something you have to deal with. So I understand if…”

“Margaret,” Nines interrupted. He still flinched at it, because he was not used to interrupting anyone, but it still felt somewhat good to set down a boundary, not to cower, especially when the woman didn’t seem to take offense. “I don’t want to feel like I have to justify my actions to you, but I accept your apology. Now let’s have a cup of tea. I need help.”

Margaret looked up at Nines with an intense inescrutable look on her face for a couple of seconds before she smirked. She snorted, softly.

“Well, well,” she mumbled, amused although her voice conveyed a strange pride and approval that warmed Nines to the core. “Let’s have a cup of tea then.”

And stepping aside, she welcomed Nines once more.

* * *

**[ To Gavin ]**

The letter sat innocently on Gavin’s desk, and Nines’ fingers trembled as he reached for it to snatch it away. 

He stopped himself at the last second, for a moment frozen by the fear of what it would mean if Gavin chose not to read it. Around him, the precinct was still even as it was bathed in the dirty yellow lights of the lamps in the ceiling. 

Empty.

It was good, Nines thought, because he didn’t need anyone asking what he was doing, not when he felt his thirium pump twist unpleasantly in his chest, beating so fast he was almost sure it was malfunctioning.

It was only with great effort that he gathered enough courage to turn around and walk away from the empty precinct. It took all of his willpower to do so, to trust and have faith and accept that this was it: this was where he had to draw the line, and once Gavin saw the letter there would be nothing else Nines could do.

He didn’t want to. It was easier not to.

Still, he did it because he was convinced it was the right thing to do. The fair thing. 

He would back off.

Feeling like he had left his heart behind, Nines left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one step forwards for Nines it seems, even when he took two backwards
> 
> you wouldn't believe how hard it is to write Nines making mistakes T_T
> 
> also, I'm so sorry I haven't answered everyone's wonderful comments! Life has just been sucky, and I've probably not been coping as best as I could. But I will! I treasure everyone's comments very much and it's what keeps me going <3


	4. The Letter / Confrontations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so. This chapter is LONG. I didn't expect it to be this long? Also, Tina just...materialized in this chapter. I dunno either.
> 
> Also, there are a lot of things I want to say about Gavin and his struggles, but if I start talking I'm afraid I'd never stop so...I hope I managed to make him make sense to everyone, in that inconsistent, contradictory, and messed up way we humans are. I dunno about that either XD

The envelope was blue and white, and although Gavin had never seen Nines’ handwriting before in his life, the cursive was so neat and perfect that there was no doubt in his mind who it was from.

There was also the fact that no one else he knew would go around writing him letters. He hadn’t received one since he was a teenager, when people still thought it cute and not terribly embarrassing to pour their hearts into paper.

However, at the moment Gavin bit his lips, his blood going hot and cold at the sight of the innocent plain envelope resting on his desk. His first instinct was to run: to throw the letter in the trash as he had done with the book that Nines had dared to return after Gavin had wanted nothing to do with him.

But then, when his fingers brushed the paper, his traitor heart beat so hard in his chest that Gavin swore it wanted out of his ribcage, as if it wished to go somewhere Gavin didn’t have the courage to admit yet.

Gavin glared at the letter.

The truth, that tricksy little thing that was not always so clear cut, was that he didn’t know. 

He didn’t know if he wanted to read it or not, equally strong feelings pulling him so strongly in opposite directions that he remained frozen in place.

He picked it up. 

Not to read it mind you. He was just a little curious, perhaps, and so he turned it around in his hands as if the back of the envelope would give him instructions as to what to do.

The back of the letter, of course, was as unremarkable as the front. There were some random lines, a smudge of ink almost, which caught Gavin’s attention simply because it was so unlike Nines to leave something as careless as a smudge on it.

Gavin frowned, and his heart jumped again as the lines suddenly rearranged on his mind and took shape: there, on the bottom corner of the immaculate envelope, was what with effort could be recognized as a badly drawn cat.

Gavin covered his mouth with one hand, unable despite himself of hiding a smile.

_ Fuck. _

“Reed!” someone called him, and Gavin startled. Suddenly, the noise of the precinct, that had faded into the background of Gavin’s mind as he had his mini-freak out, came back in full volume. 

In his mind, he made up plenty of excuses for what he did. Because he was distracted, because he couldn’t let the thing laying around on his desk. But whatever the reason, what happened was that Gavin clutched the letter tightly, and not minding if he creased it, he stuffed it into the pocket of his jacket.

Then he turned around, and with an expression that gave nothing away, went to work.

* * *

That night, when Gavin came home, he placed the wrinkled envelope on the kitchen counter.

With a care he couldn’t help, he smoothed it out as best he could. Somehow, the wrinkles eased Gavin’s anxiousness, as if the imperfections were the only thing that allowed him to consider actually reading it.

And he was on the verge of doing so a couple of times. Still, whenever he did, fear set in, doubt running like cold ice through his veins.

Not all of that had to do with Nines. There was still the hurt at the lies, the sense of betrayal. But a big part of his feelings came from the past, an old pain that had been brought to the surface by Nines’ actions. 

What would the letter contain? Was it a misunderstanding? Now that some time had passed, Gavin could admit that, unless he had greatly misjudged the android --and he honestly didn’t think he had-- he couldn’t imagine Nines hurting him out of maliciousness. He was just not that kind of person. There was also the fact that the android looked so unhappy working on the DPD, so much so that even if he somehow had used Gavin, it didn’t seem like any sort of triumph for him.

But if it _ was _ a misunderstanding, where did that leave him?

_ Unreasonable _ , a ghost from the past whispered in his ear, a cool voice that talked as if leaving him was the easiest thing in the world. _ Dramatic. You’re overreacting, Gavin, calm down so we can talk like adults. _

Gavin snatched his hand back, as if burnt.

He couldn’t do it.

He wasn’t ready.

As if summoned by his mood, Fliss bumped her head against her human’s ankles, meowing up at Gavin in a demand of attention.

Gavin’s whole countenance softened as he picked up the cat. It was her physicality and her weight in his arms that reassured him enough to allow him to step away from the counter. 

With gentle hands, he brushed her and played with her, and when he was done and she was clean and fed and drowsy, purring as she curled on top of Gavin’s favorite blanket, Gavin stopped in the middle of his living room and looked around.

Nothing was out of the ordinary, although by all means it should be. The bookcases were dusted, the floor vacuumed, the kitchen clean. All of them tasks Gavin hadn’t had the energy to do recently.

_ Tina _.

Gavin drew in a sudden, sharp breath, as if he had been underwater and only now he broke into the surface.

The letter was still on the counter as he opened his empty fridge, assessing its meager contents.

Of course it was empty. 

Tina couldn’t --didn’t-- cook to save her life.

_ Enough _, Gavin thought, and finally feeling like he had some solid ground under his feet, he picked up his phone to order groceries.

* * *

When Tina opened the door it was to the delicious smell of food. 

The lights were on, and there was music coming from the TV, and Gavin was humming as he finished putting together a salad.

“Is that lasagna I smell?” Tina asked, smirking as she took off her shoes and hung her jacket at the door.

From around the kitchen counter, Fliss dashed to welcome Tina, tail high as she stood in her hindlegs to beg for pets, something that Tina had been conditioning her to do lately.

Tina, of course, obliged, cooing and praising the cat for being so smart and for taking care of Gavin.

“Yeah, I made some for you to have for lunch tomorrow,” Gavin answered from the kitchen. He was wearing a white apron with the words CRAZY RAT MAN above the picture of a rainbow and a rat. Tina had seen it while on patrol one day, laughed her ass off for fifteen minutes straight, and then laughed for twenty more at Gavin’s face when she gave it to him. 

“Ok, but can I eat it now?” she asked, walking on sock-clad feet to lean against the kitchen counter.

The house was warm, and it smelled familiar. With a sigh, Tina relaxed, letting go of the last awful nerves that had been twisting her guts at her almost-a-failure of an evening. 

“I mean, sure, but what happened? Did your date not go well?” Gavin asked, and then again when Tina looked away. “Tina?”

“It’s just…” it wasn’t that it hadn’t gone well. God, it had. It was just that Tina was an idiot. “She’s so nice Gavin, _ god _. She…she opened doors for me, and offered her arm when we were walking and that’s…that’s so…”

Tina swallowed, twisting a ring she wore on her thumb to ease her nervousness. She had never been comfortable with intense feelings, so it was really a problem that she felt so much for her current almost-girlfriend.

Tina felt the exact second Gavin switched into concerned-friend mode, leaving everything he was doing to pay attention only to Tina and her problems.

There was a small pause, and then, “And that’s a problem because…”

“Because I feel like I’m twelve again, okay?” Tina snapped, the stress of the evening getting the better of her. “I got all…fluttery and nervous. The movie ended and I wanted to take her to dinner, but androids don’t eat and I panicked, okay?” She grimaced, blushing hotly as she remembered her own awkwardness. She groaned. “God, I’m an idiot.”

She was pulled out of her pity party by Gavin, who, because he had always been an asshole, bursted into laughter.

He kept laughing while serving some lasagna and salad on a plate, and chuckled as Tina eat. She tried to remain irritated, Gavin’s antics a perfect target for her frustration, but ended up utterly failing because this was her favorite dish, and Gavin had always been good at cooking, and he knew Tina so well it was scary sometimes.

“Thanks for the help,” Tina grumbled, frustration fading as she kept stuffing her face with lasagna. At first she made an effort to remain indifferent as she ate, but little by little the ugly feelings melted until she was left trying to suppress an honest to god moan because this was just what she needed. “Jesus Gavin, this is so good.”

“I know you only keep me around for the food,” he winked, eyes warm, and god, she loved the asshole so much. “But for fuck’s sake Teeny. You like her. She likes you. Just…send her a text and tell her you’d like to take her out again or something.”

In automatic Tina opened her mouth to retort something harsh, but caught herself at the last second. She swallowed the words, aware that they were meant only to deflect but they would greatly hurt her friend, and she sighed, deflating.

“I guess,” she shrugged. She ate another bite of the lasagna, and that made her feel immediately better.

It was then that Tina’s phone chimed and she couldn’t help the smile on her face as she read it: it was from Polly.

_ Thank you for the date _ , the android had written, and Tina knew she was a goner when she found the correct punctuation adorable. _ I had a great time. Hopefully you’d like to do it again? _

She wasn’t surprised when Gavin’s chin came to rest on her shoulder as he peeked at the message, an excuse to hug her instead of snooping from across the counter like a normal human being.

“See?” he teased, sneaking his arms around her waist to lightly rest them against her stomach. “I’m glad for you. You deserve this.” And then, so very, very softly, “Thank you.”

Tina swallowed against the rush of emotion because she had never been able to take affection well. But Gavin had always been like this: physical in his love. Touch calmed him and reassured him, and that’s what he always seeked when he was upset.

It was one of the ways in which they were completely different, but Tina, who had seldom been shown physical affection growing up, really appreciated Gavin’s physicality. It made her remember she had a body, and that it was far more than just a vessel to carry around her brain.

With a smile, she finally allowed herself to melt into the embrace, enjoying Gavin’s warmth and the security he offered, the same he had offered to her for fifteen years, starting from the time when Tina had been most vulnerable-- kicked out from her home, alone and scared.

He was her family, and she loved him as fiercely as he loved her, and seeing him now, cooking in a lit apartment with soft music in the background made her feel like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

She closed her eyes and squeezed Gavin’s forearm, the only way in which she could express her love at the moment.

That night, they curled together on the couch to watch old seasons of dumb fashion shows, critizicing every single thing, and laughed like they always did, simply enjoying each other’s company.

Tina didn’t comment on the wrinkled sealed envelope resting on the kitchen counter, and Gavin didn’t explain anything either. But as she looked at him arguing with Fliss before going to bed, Tina knew, with the certainty of someone that knows the other person well, that whatever had happened meant that things would be alright, and Gavin would move forward once again.

* * *

After that, like the letter had been some sort of silent signal, Nines backed off.

He was still _ there _, in the background, watching and doing small things for Gavin. However, he stopped trying to corner Gavin, so for the first time since things had gone to hell, the man felt like he could actually breathe. 

Unsurprisingly, now that he was not being pressured, Gavin felt better, less defensive. It was like something was uncoiling from inside him once he didn’t have to be alert all the time at work. He was less snippy with Nines, finally able to hide under polite indifference whenever they had to interact.

Still, the letter remained unopened for another ten long days.

It remained unopened when Tina went back home, after extracting from Gavin the promise he would call her if he felt down again.

It remained unopened every night when Gavin returned home, tired and lonely.

It remained unopened even when he was most curious, because sometimes, when you’re shitty to someone, it’s easier to keep being shitty than to face the root of the problem.

And so Gavin coped with everything the way he always did: by ignoring the problem. It was something that had never worked for him before, but still he did it this time as well even as he sensed, in a subconscious level he didn’t try to understand, that something was changing.

It wasn’t anything in particular.

Gavin woke up one night, tired as usual. Even without looking at his phone, he knew it was before three in the morning and he had barely three hours of sleep.

He left his bed in bare feet, too used to insomnia to try to delude himself thinking he might go back to sleep if he stayed in bed. When he opened the door to his living room, everything was still. To his left, the curtains were drawn, allowing the pale light of the moon to come through, pooling into a silver puddle on the floor and bathing everything in a soft glow that had something unreal to it, something frail.

Gavin walked to the window on silent feet, and when he peered out it was to find the full moon shining down on him. Outside, the world was quiet. It was already the second week of December, and so the street was covered in snow and ice. It always seemed strange to Gavin how the snow seemed to absorb all sounds, so the night, usually already silent, seemed quieter still in the winter, like a blanket had been draped over the world, drowning out all sounds.

Turning around, with his back to the window, Gavin shivered. Not because he was cold. The room, although a tad cooler than his bedroom had been, was warm enough for him to be comfortable in short sleeves and bare feet. Instead, it was the silver light of the moon that made him feel floaty, as if he had walked into a dream, the darkness stripping him of the walls the harsh light of the sun only made thicker.

From her cat tree, Fliss watched him, for once too lazy to give up her comfy spot in favor of her human. And Gavin, alone in the dark in the middle of the night, looked around, and, as if waking, wondered what the hell he was doing.

On a whim, he retrieved his blankets from the couch and made a cocoon under the window, making a nest and curling up under the light of the moon like he had seen Fliss curl plenty of times in the sun. 

The silence, for once, was soothing.

_ What am I doing? _ He wondered again, and he didn’t mean just about Nines, although he was keenly aware of the envelope still resting on the counter.

It was...everything. For the past three years he had been trying to move on from a failed relationship, and he had thought he had succeeded. It hurt to think he had not. He had not thought about his ex for...he didn’t remember how long, but these days he was always on the back of his mind, the root of his ill mood-- the memories of an empty bed, and suitcases at the door, and the ugly, heart wrenching feeling that something was wrong when he found his partner sitting at the kitchen counter, waiting for him.

Gavin had spent three years pretending he had gotten over that, trying not to think about any of it, but now he realised he had failed. But yet, like it was the moon that was protecting him, he found that thinking about it didn’t hurt in the same way. It still hurt, of course, but it was like the pain came from somewhere different, a place deep inside him rather than from the outside. It was a pain that felt hidden, both sharp and distant, like it was trying to come out from the place Gavin had locked it in, much like the photographs Gavin still had hidden in a shoe box somewhere in his closet.

Still, with the moonlight like a blanket around him, he didn’t feel weighed down by it as he usually did. Absently, he rubbed his neck as if to ease a phantom pain, almost surprised not to find the usual silver of the necklace he always wore. 

He let the memories come and pass through him, ghosts of the past that was gone. The lies that were not lies, just omissions of truth that he had blindly believed like an idiot. He was going to get married to the asshole, for fuck’s sake. He’d been _ happy _. And then, one day without warning, it had ended without so much as an explanation, leaving Gavin with the certain knowledge he was not worth even a fight, a relationship that had unilaterally ended after ten years of friendship and five more of living together.

Left behind.

Because, of course, who would make an effort for someone like him?

That thought, which he had avoided like the plague for three years, hurt keenly, even as his heart beat like crazy because he had an answer.

Nines. 

Nines was making an effort, clumsy and misguided as it might be sometimes. And Gavin felt on the edge of a cliff, because to take Nines’ hand meant he had to turn around first, and he wasn’t sure he could do that and survive being let down again.

Now, past whatever stupid conclusions his mind had jumped to at first, the truth remained that Nines had lied too. Just in the same way, by omission, walking the same line his ex did, that fine line where it could be argued that the other person didn’t lie. Because Gavin understood that no one owed the other person every fact about themselves, and if so, when did omitting the truth count as deception? Had he any right to his feelings at all? Or was he overreacting as usual?

He was so deep into his thoughts that he almost jumped out of his skin when he heard Fliss’ loud cry, a high pitched meow full of urgent need that had Gavin on his feet in a second.

He was relieved when, a second later, he heard a familiar scratching at the window, the reason of Fliss’ antics becoming abundantly clear.

From the other side of the glass a one-eyed tuxedo cat stared at him, unimpressed but too polite to loudly demand (unlike Fliss, who was outright screeching) that Gavin hurry up and let him in already.

Gavin did. He quickly closed the window behind the cat, chilled from the gust of frigid air that came together with him. Still, he watched fondly as the cats greeted each other, licking and purring and bumping heads with a devotion Gavin never ceased to find amazing.

He watched their antics for a while, and finally #9 looked around, as if looking for something, before stopping before the couch closest to the door and staring at it and back to Gavin in confusion.

Gavin sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

It was Nines’ couch.

“He’s not here,” he explained to the cat. By now, Gavin knew the cat enough not to try and pet him, but he crouched by him anyway, extending a hand for him to smell.

The cat spared a second of polite interest sniffing Gavin’s hand before looking at the man again in question. 

“Human things,” Gavin told him, and then, remembering Nines was not human, winced. “People things, I guess.” 

To his left, Fliss leaned heavily against his side. Her purring was the loudest sound in the quiet night as she joined #9 in front of the couch. And as he watched the cats’ gentle affection, Gavin couldn’t help but think about Nines: the android’s neutral expression, and his soft eyes and hands, and the way he watched the world with so much curiosity.

He thought about the android’s stiff posture when he was wearing the police uniform, the stressed amber of his LED, and finally allowed himself to fully feel the longing and protectiveness that naturally welled up whenever he thought about Nines.

“Do you visit him too?” he found himself asking #9, because Gavin was dumb and not good with his feelings, but even so he was not dumb enough to try to pretend in front of his cats. “I wonder how he’s holding up. He was on duty when the first snow of the year fell. I wonder if he enjoyed it. Shit.” Gavin sat down then, on the hard wooden floor instead of on the couch, because the ache was too much to handle. It was like it had taken him until that strange moment, in the company of two cats and hidden by the night, to finally accept his feelings and see his heart clearly. “I wanted…”

He wanted to show that to Nines. The first snow, and his first snow battle. He wanted to tease him, and warm him, and show him the way the specks of snow were unique and beautiful and see his LED dancing a happy blue on his temple.

“_ Shit _,” Gavin cursed again, curled into himself, because sometimes the truth, although painful when it came, was just that absolute.

It took Gavin a long while to gather the courage to stand up, and longer to open the letter. He hesitated for a long time, enveloped by the silver moonlight that made him feel like he was in the center of the world. 

He paced, unable to stay still, because he understood that choosing to read Nines’ letter meant he had to talk about his feelings. And that thought, of having to be honest and bare his heart and expose his insecurities, well...it was a very scary thought.

The sky had already started to change colors by the time Gavin finally opened the envelope.

It was a love letter.

Nines might not have intended it as such, but it was. On it, he explained about his loneliness, about the cats, about how happy it had made him to find out Gavin was the person who fed them.

He wrote about the same night that was never far from Gavin’s own mind: about his fears, and seeing Gavin hurt, about realizing his feelings (Gavin had to stop three times at that part, heart thundering and face red as a cherry). And finally, he wrote about his determination to get into the DPD for Gavin’s sake, to protect him.

Gavin read the whole thing five times, as if the words would suddenly change to take the weight off everything Nines had confessed. And in the end, Gavin curled up on the couch, hugging his legs to his chest, his hot face hidden in his knees as he weathered the storm of feelings that raged inside him at Nines’ earnest explanation.

When he finally emerged from his cocoon it was to find Fliss pressed against his thigh, #9 curled against her, fast asleep. Absently, Gavin pet Fliss, smiling when she chirped in complaint at being disturbed.

Gavin’s smile faded as he looked at the letter he had clutched in his right hand. “To protect me,” he mumbled, and grimaced as Fliss opened one yellow-green eye to peer up at him. “_ Fuck _ . What a stupid reason,” he informed her. “I’m not…” he trailed off, rubbing his face, trying to subdue his heart. Gavin thought about everything Nines had told him about the library, about how he always looked so content while reading, and the idea that he had given up all of that for _ Gavin _ made something strange tighten in his stomach. It was too complex a feeling to easily disentangle, but Gavin could easily recognize the awful combination of longing mixed with disbelief and the bitter poison that was self-hatred. 

“I’m not worth it,” he said before he could stop himself. His voice was loud in the peace of the early winter morning. The moon had already hid under the horizon, and without its light, Gavin’s ghosts were close enough that his voice sounded certain, like he had uttered an absolute truth.

He felt like shit. Nines’ intentions had been good, and Gavin’s brain --stupid, unreasonable, dramatic Gavin-- had jumped to the most idiotic conclusions and ran away with them. 

Nines had given up the library for _ him _. No one had ever done such a thing for Gavin, and how had he repaid him? Gavin thought back to all the hurtful things he had said to Nines, remembered their encounter in the break room a few weeks back, the words he spat at Nines then to make him back off, and felt ashamed.

The shame burned through him like fire, because although he knew that lashing out was his own toxic coping mechanism, it didn’t mean he didn’t know it was wrong. It hadn’t sat well within him when he’d thought Nines had deceived him, and now, knowing what Nines had given up for him, hurt even more.

He had to talk to Nines. Apologize, make sure he was okay, and then...

Gavin didn’t know what then. Convince him his feelings for Gavin were a waste, maybe.

From his bedroom, the faint alarm of his phone began to ring, announcing the time he should’ve woken up had he been a normal person.

Exhausted, heart tender and running on three hours of sleep, Gavin braced himself to start his day.

* * *

However, now that Gavin had made up his mind to talk to Nines, he found it more difficult than he’d expected. 

Not only because he felt his stomach twist every time he caught sight of the android. In a stroke of luck and intuition, he made a connection that led him and Pearson to another lead in a murder that was soon to go cold, and the urgency of it made every other thing in Gavin’s life take a back seat for the following days.

The following days, as it was usual for him when he needed more time, passed him in a rush. Clues came together, finally forming a pattern and revealing a suspect. And all that time, Gavin worked tirelessly, going through interviews and evidence, barely sleeping and almost forgetting to eat as he did when he hyper focused on something.

It was early afternoon of the third day of this marathon when Gavin finally put together enough evidence to warrant an arrest, but instead of triumph or relief, the information came with the chilling knowledge that there was another person that could be a potential target for the murderer. A young man friend of the victim.

Missing.

“_ Fuck _,” Gavin cursed, and Pearson mirrored the feeling. By that point he didn’t know how many hours they’d locked themselves in the evidence room, and he didn’t care. Adrenaline pushed him forward, the urge to find this person in time, to find him maybe doing something stupid, willing him not to become one of the ghosts that kept Gavin up at night.

What came as a surprise was that Fowler put Gavin in command. Unlike most TV shows, detectives seldom made arrests like these, instead focusing more on the paperwork for prosecuting the criminals and leaving the rest to the police officers. However, this time, Fowler looked at Gavin straight in the eyes, as if measuring him, and told him, “Do not let me down.”

And _ fuck _. Gavin did not intend to. Not only because he knew what Fowler was doing --making Gavin’s record pretty for that promotion he’d been eyeing-- but because this was a person’s life on the line, and, despite his well deserved reputation, at the moment Gavin couldn’t care less about that. This was a missing person, and Gavin would be damned if this became another stain on his conscience, another failure he could never forgive himself for.

So when Gavin was informed of who’ll be his backup and Nines’ name was in there, he didn’t even blink, too focused on assessing the strengths of the officers under his command. He knew the others, and although he hadn’t worked with Nines in this capacity, he’d seen what Connor could do. 

They moved quickly, but still it felt like an eternity before everyone was in place. The building was old and tall, in a well to do place of Detroit, and Gavin could only be grateful that the weather gave them a break from the snow. Things were already difficult enough without a blizzard restricting the police’s movements. 

Beside him, sitting on the patrol car without insignias, Pearson was staring blankly forward. This case would mean a promotion for her, Gavin knew. But still he was certain that wasn’t what was going through the woman’s head at the moment. Instead, she looked deadly, like she wanted to punch the culprit in the face, and Gavin smirked. He didn’t usually like people, but he really liked this woman.

The sun was already touching the horizon by the time everything was ready. Gavin and Pearson entered the building in civilian clothes, accompanied by an officer disguised as a pizza delivery guy. After all, they were not certain the missing person would be in the flat, and they didn’t want to take any chances.

The young man that opened the door was pale, but the sly determination in his blue eyes was commendable. He spoke with confidence, going along with the pizza delivery ruse although his hands trembled a little and his legs definitely gave from under him when Gavin and Pearson came out from around the corner with their guns drawn.

“He’s inside,” the young man sobbed, all but collapsing in Pearson’s arms, the poor kid. He hadn’t been missing for more than a few hours, but Gavin thanked all of his lucky stars because knew that sometimes that was more than enough for a killer.

On Gavin’s ears, the police comms flared into life as Pearson updated everyone of the safety of the hostage. Gavin did as well, although later on he wouldn’t remember his own words. He had heard the sound of a window opening, the metal clang of feet landing on a fire exit, and he followed, instinct taking over everything else until there was nothing but urgency, and _ chase _ , and _ find _.

He followed the man down the metal stairs, updating the situation as he ran, warning everyone of the huge knife the culprit was carrying, but not too alarmed because he had foreseen this event and knew that it was Nines who was at the mouth of the alley, ready to stop the criminal if he took that escape route.

Indeed, from his vantage position on the fire escape Gavin saw Nines take a step into the alley at the same time the man jumped to the ground. And because Gavin had a privileged view of the alley, he clearly saw Nines raise his gun just before his LED flickered yellow, and then red. 

_ Checkmate _, Gavin thought, a second of triumph before warning bells rang in his head. 

Something was wrong.

With horror, Gavin saw Nines’ usually steady hands shake, slightly lowering the gun for a fraction of a second. The hesitation was enough. The man was running straight towards him, and the knife was raised, and Gavin yelled something as he jumped the rest of the way down the fire escape and dashed forward, heart beating on his chest and blood rushing on his ears, because androids were strong but they were not indestructible.

Gavin didn’t know what it was that snapped Nines out of it, but with a grace that was at odds with the way he had just frozen, the android sidestepped the human and it only took him a moment to twist the hand that held the knife. It clattered to the floor, useless and harmless, and Gavin kicked it away as he reached them, subduing the still struggling man against the floor.

“Why didn’t you shoot!” Gavin screamed. He jammed a knee on the center of the man’s back to push him down, and barely registered when he stopped squirming, finally defeated. The blood rushing through Gavin’s ears was so loud he could not hear anything else, even though he was aware there were voices around them. “You had a clean shot! He had a knife aimed to your throat! WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU SHOOT!”

“Detective Reed…” someone said, but Gavin was only aware of the criminal taken from him. He let him go, blind to everything except Nines’ wide frightened eyes, his LED stuck in solid red, the way he looked so scared.

Fear finally slammed into Gavin’s chest, so piercing and strong that his breath stuttered. In his mind it was like he was trapped in a nightmarish loop, still watching Nines lower the gun and the man running towards him with the knife. He remembered Nines’ elegant writing-- _ to protect you _ he’d written, for Gavin’s sake, and if something had happened to him, if the man had sunk the knife on Nines’ throat, it would have been Gavin’s fault.

Gavin’s breathing was labored as he yelled, unaware of his words. He just needed Nines to understand this couldn’t happen again, he couldn’t just not shoot, he couldn’t ever come to harm.

_ To protect you. _

The words were like weights around Gavin’s neck, and he felt like he was choking, sinking, drowning.

"Detective Reed," officer Miller interrupted, voice soft. Suddenly, it was like the world materialized around Gavin again. The sounds of the street, that had been muted while he panicked, were loud again. Gently, as if recognizing some of what was going on with him, Chris Miller rested a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, and it was the contact more than anything that snapped Gavin out of the spiral of panic. "He's a rookie," he defended Nines, Nines who was staring at him with big blue eyes, and it was too much.

"He's an idiot," Gavin spit out, hating the words that left his lips but unable to stop himself. "And such stupidity might get him killed someday."

He turned away then, unable to keep looking at Nines' devastated eyes and not take him into his arms and never let him go. He was keenly aware no one knew he had so much as talked to Nines before, and knew what this must look like. Still, at the moment Gavin couldn’t care less about a future promotion or his reputation or whatever. Fear was still pumping through his veins like poison, a guilt so heavy pressing on his throat that Gavin thought it a miracle he was not outright having a panic attack.

Despite this, in a sickening way life sometimes was, the evening went well. When they returned to the precinct, the evidence and paperwork needed to process the murderer was done and approved quickly, and Fowler, after reading the preliminary reports of the case, didn’t ask about Gavin’s outburst either.

It was already close to midnight when Gavin deemed everything good enough to allow himself and Pearson to go home. Despite the late hour, and how meticulous Gavin had insisted they be with the paperwork, it was obvious Pearson was feeling festive. Gavin didn’t begrudge her that. The case had been stressful, and now that they had made sure there were no more victims, it became obvious how good it was going to look in both their records.

And, as if feeding off their success, the mood in the precinct was festive too. Everyone seemed cheered by the victory, and Gavin was not surprised when he was invited to a round of drinks. Pearson looked at him, hopeful, and Gavin wanted to refuse, but the thought that he might be a disappointment to someone else tonight was what made him accept.

It was late when they made it to the bar, a modest thing that was open at all hours. Several people piled in, ready to celebrate the victory. Usually, Gavin would have too. In other circumstances, he’d be in the center of the group, laughing and joking and enjoying the praise and the triumph.

He couldn’t enjoy it tonight. He still felt upset by the memory of the man running towards Nines, unable to shake the fear and the self-loathing at having yelled at the distressed android. So Gavin kept to himself, silently drinking the one shot of whiskey he allowed himself even though it tasted like ashes in his mouth.

He had barely finished it when he stood to leave, only stopping when Pearson looked at him questioningly.

“You enjoy,” he told her, patting her shoulder in approval, because she had done well and she deserved it. “I’m beat. See you tomorrow?”

The cold hit Gavin like a wall when he left the bar. With a shiver, he bundled further into his winter jacket, pulling his hoodie up to hide from the cold as much as from the ugly feelings churning in his gut. Before he could chicken out, he sent a message to Tina as he walked back to his car. He was almost there when he saw a tall figure standing on the sidewalk, in the middle of the dirty ring of light a lamp post shed unto the ground.

Nines.

“What are you doing here?” Gavin asked before he could catch himself. However, this time the question was not aggressive. It was pleading, shaking, made of ice but frail, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.

“I wanted…” Nines trailed off. His LED, that had been amber --always amber and never blue-- blinked red, and Gavin wondered how long had he been standing there, in the cold. “I just wanted to see you,” he confessed, and he sounded so miserable that Gavin felt hot tears prickle on the back of his eyes.

_ To protect you, _ the letter had said.

“_ Why _ would you ever want to see me?” Gavin cried out. It felt like all of his feelings, the good and the bad, were trying to come up his throat and spill in Nines’ direction. The letter, and the lies, and the knife, everything was tangled in such a way Gavin didn’t think he could make sense of anything anymore. “I don’t understand! I don’t understand you! I don’t deserve anything! I have been--! I have been awful to you, so _ why... _ !” _ why haven’t you left me _ was what he wanted to desperately ask but didn’t dare to.

“Because I am in your corner,” Nines answered, like it was that simple, and Gavin froze, eyes wide. 

Those had been his words. He had said that to Nines, a night long ago when the android had asked him why Gavin was a cop, and Gavin had decided to answer with the truth in a whim.

And Nines...he had remembered. Such a small, stupid thing, he remembered.

For an endless moment Gavin couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything other than Nines’ clear blue eyes, so earnest and accepting after everything Gavin had done.

And then, so suddenly he gasped, Gavin felt the blood running through his veins again. It was like he was seeing Nines for the first time, tall and imposing, with his impossibly soft eyes, face stern and LED fluttering like a firefly on his temple. 

Gavin flinched as if burned, face flushed a deep red.

“You—“ he stammered. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, so loud he was sure Nines could hear it, and he averted his face to hide it. “You are…” he bit off his words, uncertain of what he wanted to say and unsettled by his own feelings.

Under Nines’ blue gaze, Gavin shook. He shook until he thought he might break, an earthquake that sent tumbling down whatever stupid walls had built around his heart for the longest time.

And then, the thought: _ Not like this. _

“Please go into the bar,” Gavin said, voice subdued. He took a step towards Nines, and as if that was all the permission he needed, Nines went to him, and for a moment Gavin was sure Nines would hug him.

He didn’t. He remained just shy of crowding Gavin, hands twitching like he was holding himself back. Unable to help himself, Gavin took one of Nines’ large hands on his own and just held it, an unnatural sorrow taking hold of him at the coldness that had settled on Nines’ skin.

“Your hands are cold,” he mumbled, wishing he could warm them. He felt strangely calm, detached, as if his heart had been turned into ice by the cold.

“Gavin…”

“Don’t—!” Gavin began, but deflated quickly. “I need to be alone to think right now. Please don’t follow me.” 

Nines remained silent for a couple of seconds and finally --finally!-- nodded.

“Thank you. Let’s talk later, okay?” Gavin asked, trying to flash a smile to Nines but utterly failing. “Please go inside and ask for a cab home. Don’t walk in this weather. Take care of yourself.”

Nines nodded again, and it took all of Gavin’s will power to let the android’s hand go. Feeling empty, he turned around, went into his car, waited until he saw Pearson peering outside in answer to the quick text Gavin sent her, and drove away.

* * *

Although she loved her current company, Tina was relieved when she heard the sound of keys opening the door announcing the presence of Gavin.

From beside the couch, the android --her _ girlfriend _, Tina reminded herself with cautious glee-- immediately stood, ready to leave. Tina followed after her, amused when Gavin stopped in his tracks when faced with the android at the door.

“I...huh…” he stammered, and Tina grinned.

“This is Polly,” she introduced, amused by the way Gavin’s expression shifted in recognition. “Polly, this is Gavin."

“We have met,” Polly answered, politely tilting her head towards Gavin as the man awkwardly mirrored the gesture in greeting.

It was true. 

Polly was an android from the precinct, and although she had quit her job after she’d deviated, she’d been in the DPD long enough for Gavin to know her and the other way around. That didn’t mean Polly didn’t deserve an introduction, as far as Tina was concerned. It wasn’t like she and Gavin were actually _ acquainted _.

Trying to hide her smirk, Tina ushered Gavin unceremoniously inside the apartment, pushing him towards the couch as a hint of what was expected of him. Then, she turned to Polly, who was watching the exchange with obvious interest, and reached for her hands.

“You don’t have to go,” Tina said, heart beating fast because this was an unexpected test that sooner or later tried every single one of her relationships. However, considering how Polly had only been her girlfriend for altogether three hours, Tina would have wanted more time, if only to enjoy her time with Polly a little bit longer.

“I know I don’t have to,” Polly answered, raising their clasped hands to brush a kiss against Tina’s knuckles, soft and reverent. “But he needs you. And you love him,” she concluded, and Tina felt the air leave her lungs, stunned by an answer she had never received but always had wanted.

Yes, she loved Gavin.

She loved him, and he was her only family, but their bond was one that had often come between them and their respective relationships. They were not lovers or romantic partners, never had been and probably never would be, but for some reason it was hard for others to understand that their relationship was as important to them as any romantic bond would be.

Tina would never commit to anyone that thought that her relationship with her best friend was less important just because it wasn’t sexual or romantic.

But in front of her, Polly didn’t seem the least disturbed. It was early to tell still, Tina reminded her heart, who refused to listen and swelled with adoration towards her girlfriend.

“So, er, see you soon?” she asked, clumsy in her affection, but the way Polly smiled at her made all of her doubts melt, sweet honeyed wax made liquid under the warmth of the sun.

“Of course. I’ll text you?” 

Tina nodded, and froze when Polly leaned down to brush a gentle kiss on her cheek.

On her _ cheek _, for fuck’s sake, and Tina felt she might faint she felt so much.

Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest when she closed the door behind her. From her couch, Gavin raised his head, and the smirk he had on his face was so sharp she narrowed her eyes in warning.

“Stop being an idiot, Tina, and marry her already,” he teased, and Tina was mortified to feel the blood rushing to her face.

“This was--we’re just--!” Gavin raised an eyebrow, and Tina groaned, hiding her blushing face on her hands. “Shut up, okay?”

Gavin snorted, but Tina was grateful when he complied because the relationship was too new and her heart felt very tender.

“I’m sorry I interrupted,” Gavin apologized instead, face serious. “I wish you’d told me you were with her. I wouldn’t have come.”

Tina knew that, which was why she hadn’t told him.

Instead, she rolled her eyes and waved to dismiss his words, passing by Gavin to go into the kitchen to put some water to boil as was their custom.

“Nah, it’s fine,” she assured him. “I think it’s better that I take things slow this time,” she explained, and it was true. She was well aware of her own flaws, and she knew she’d panic if she went all in at once. It was a relief that Polly understood and was on the same page than her.

As it often happened when she was with Gavin, as she waited for the water to boil, Tina felt tired all of a sudden, reassured by his presence enough that she could finally relax. Yawning, she crossed her living room again to go into her bedroom. When she emerged again, she was wearing a red christmas sweater with a pixel version of an old video game character and the checkered bottoms of one of the ugly Ravenclaw pajama sets Gavin insisted on giving her every year. 

“Congrats on the case by the way. I heard the news.”

“Thanks,” Gavin shrugged, standing up to retrieve the set of longue clothes he always had at Tina’s place.

She frowned, concerned, because he was pale and for a second he looked lost, young and uncertain. It was not like Gavin to brush away praise, and Tina’s mind quickly provided him with scenarios of what could have happened. 

When he emerged from the bathroom, he had changed clothes. He looked a tad better now that he was warm and comfortable, but as he joined Tina in the kitchen it was obvious something was on his mind.

“You don’t look happy,” Tina commented, fishing for information.

“I fucked up again,” he confessed. He was about to say something else when the kettle began to whistle, making Gavin flinch in surprise. With irritation, he ran a hand through his face before breathing in and out evenly, and Tina let him, allowing him to work through his feelings at his own pace until he was ready to talk.

It didn’t surprise her when Gavin opened the pantry, eyes lingering on Tina’s stash of instant noodles before asking, “Did you have dinner?”

She eyed him, measuring him, before she shook her head.

“Soup,” she requested, for they had known each other for long enough to be used to each other’s idiosyncrasies. 

As Tina knew he would, Gavin talked as he cooked. Having his hands busy helped him to sort through his thoughts, and he recounted everything to Tina: from the contents of the letter, to the case, to Nines’ hesitation and his own outburst. He didn’t justify himself, and Tina listened in silence, not interrupting Gavin even when she ached to cut him off to soften the words that left his mouth, specially those aimed towards himself.

“So I figure you’re done pushing him away?” she asked him in the end, and Gavin flinched because the call out was true and they both knew that was what Gavin had been doing.

“Yeah.”

“And what are you going to do now?”

Gavin shrugged. He watched the soup boiling on the stove with intense concentration, as if it would reveal to him the answers he needed. “I figure it’s best for him if I put an end to things now.”

Tina huffed, a spark of anger twisting her mouth into a grimace. “Really? For _ him _ ?” she bit out, tense, because he always did this. “And what about what’s best for _ you _?” 

“You already seen how much I’ve screwed up!” Gavin defended. He seemed startled that Tina was not agreeing with him, as if he’d expected for her to ever tell him to blindly place someone else over his own well being. But also, standing there in Tina’s kitchen, he looked tired, scared, and lost. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“Well, maybe talk to him, Gavin, _ fuck _!” Tina’s vehemence took Gavin by surprise, and it was this surprise that made Tina’s temper flare up. She hated when he did this, letting himself be emotionally stepped on by people he loved. Tina had seen him do it plenty of times, had seen his ex take advantage of this, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to step in this time. “You always do this...thing...in which you assume your love is the worst possible thing that could happen to another person. That’s just not true, and definitely not healthy…”

“I know I’m crap at…”

But Tina knew Gavin wasn’t listening, and she was not done. 

She was not a patient person by nature. 

She had spent all of her childhood stifled and silent, never daring to stand up for herself, and then punished when she finally did.

The Tina that emerged from that was quick tempered, opinionated. She had discovered she loved fiercely, and was deeply loyal, but after a long time of being silenced, she’d found out she was the kind of person that couldn’t keep her mouth shut.

It was this trait that had made her able to become friends with Gavin after he had pretty much taken her in. They’d lived together when they were poor as rats, balancing endless jobs to be able to stay in the academy. She knew his favorite foods, and his fears, and his tells, and how to soothe him. And she also knew that, despite all that, it was Tina’s honesty that had paved the path of his trust, for no matter his flaws, Gavin was a person that appreciated the truth, as painful as it was sometimes.

“I’m not done,” she interrupted him, and Gavin closed his mouth immediately, too in tune with her to sense when he needed to listen. “Do you know what I think? I think you don’t give enough credit to yourself. You...you make mistakes. You can be annoying, and an ass, but you know what? Me too. Because we’re people. You...fuck up, but you also care so much. About those cats, and about that girl you didn’t know that had been kicked out of her house, do you remember her?” 

Gavin swallowed, mouth downturned, and Tina shook in her fury because she owed Gavin so much, and there were few things that made her so angry as someone bad mouthing him, and that included himself. 

She knew him. God, she knew him, and he was just...human. A person. That was all.

“And wasn’t that why you first noticed Nines? Because he was lost too?” she reminded him. She tamed her anger out of love, because although she knew she was entitled to her feelings, she couldn’t allow them to hurt Gavin either. It was this knowledge that allowed her to soften her words, to gentle her voice so he would listen better. “Gavin, you have a lot of love to give, and I think it’s time you give it to someone that wants not only to accept it, but has as much to give back to you. Yes, you are far from perfect, but no one is. You are a person, and you are deserving of love as much as everyone else.”

Gavin trembled, for these were words that were hard for him to hear. And Tina, because she loved him, pulled him into a tight embrace. She felt Gavin’s body relax at the touch, as if the weight that he constantly carried on his shoulders was eased now that he could share it with someone.

“I don’t feel like I deserve it,” he confessed, face hidden in her hair and voice choked, and this Tina knew. She knew, and wished with all her heart she could make him understand he did even if she was aware that was something a person could only do by themselves.

“I know, kit-cat,” she hushed him, rubbing his back, the dumb old nickname making a chuckle leave his lips. “You know that if you wanted to go back to therapy…”

“No,” Gavin answered, and Tina suppressed a sigh, for this was an old argument of theirs. “Not yet. I think I can...I can handle it. But I have considered it.”

“Ok,” she accepted. She knew not to push him too much, and he had been doing well, although everyone could do with therapy as far as Tina was concerned. “Just, Gav...forgive yourself. Whatever mistakes you have made, you can change. It won’t be easy, you know it won’t, but…you’re a human being. Fallible and full of contradictions. You feel sadness and regret and shame, but you also deserve to have good things,” Tina repeated. “You deserve to be happy,” she whispered, and wished with all her heart he’d believe it.

Dinner was a silent affair, although it was a comfortable silence. The food was fucking delicious, because Gavin was a hell of a cook although he only ever cooked for other people. Tina eat two bowls of soup and cleaned the pot with a piece of bread without a glimpse of shame, and once they were done cleaning the kitchen, she pulled out the couch to make a bed and went into her room to gather all of the blankets and pillows she owned.

Once she was satisfied with the resulting nest, she burrowed into it, knowing without having to ask that Gavin would follow. 

He did. With her stomach full, Tina felt satisfied and pleasantly sleepy. Gavin was a warm presence beside her, and they had done this plenty of times before, in happy times and in bad times, and years of habit made it so she never slept as well as she did when Gavin was in the room with her.

“Thank you, Teeny,” Gavin whispered into the darkness after a while, and half asleep, Tina smiled, content.

“Love you,” she reminded him, the only person in her life she could say those words to without fear. Others would come soon, perhaps, but for now she relished the knowledge she had someone she loved, a safe haven.

A family. 

A gentle familiar hand touched her head, petting her, and Tina smiled at the sign of affection.

“Love you too,” Gavin answered, voice full of emotion, and Tina allowed herself to be lulled by the hand that was so gently petting her hair until she fell asleep.


	5. Changes / Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked very hard so we could have some christmas fluff before the holidays were over! I'm a bit late, and this is the most self indulgent chapter I've written so far, but I hope everyone enjoys!
> 
> (also, don't judge me, in my country xmas is not over until the 6th of january, ok??? lol)

The snow crunched under Nines’ shoes as he walked down the street towards the café. 

After the snow and cloudy skies that heralded the beginning of the unofficial winter, it was like the weather had finally decided to give people a break. The sky was clear that particular cold morning of December, a pure beautiful blue that often only happened when the air was too cold to breathe. The sun barely warmed the chilled earth, but still it made the piles of clean snow --where they could be found-- to sparkle and shine, too bright to be directly looked at.

If Nines stopped and breathed in deeply, his sensors could pick up the ice crystals in the air. He had, that morning, done exactly that. He’d opened his window, relishing the warm sunlight kissing his skin, and breathed deeply. Suddenly, winter seemed beautiful and wonderful, and a thrill of excitement ran through him at the perspective of experiencing a new season for the first time instead of just looking out through a window. This excitement was a feeling he had not experienced often since he began to work at the DPD, so he cherished it, thirium pump beating wildly whenever the thought about his plans for that day.

Although his memory was perfect and he was 100% sure of the time and place they had agreed to meet, Nines stopped for a moment before the small coffee shop. He rested a hand over the left pocket of his black coat, happy to hear the rustle of paper. He wanted to reach in and take out Gavin’s notes and read them again, just for the pleasure of having something of his. 

To say Nines had been surprised when he found Gavin’s first note on his desk was an understatement. It had been a blue post-it, humble and unassuming. Nines’ hands had shook a little when he realized who it was from, the joy that bloomed in his chest warm and powerful like spring.

They had exchanged a few more notes before Gavin had apparently gotten the courage to ask Nines out for a coffee. Nines had taken twenty minutes and half a pad of post-its until he was satisfied with his answer (which ended up being a simple _ Of course _ that didn’t convey his feelings at all) and the only thing that ever so slightly clouded his happiness was that he rather enjoyed exchanging notes with Gavin, and wished it was something that could continue.

However, as things were, Nines was satisfied enough with his situation that he felt he couldn’t be greedy. Like the little notes were a charm, all the stress and anxiety he’d been feeling vanished, the simple thought of them enough to get Nines through the dread he felt every morning when he left his flat to go to work as a police officer.

A little bell merrily chimed to announce Nines’ presence when he pushed open the door of the café. 

The inside of it was warm, and although Nines hadn’t expected any less from Gavin, as he looked around he still was glad to see how nice the place was. It was a bit on the small side but cozy: wooden benches and a checkered floor gave it a retro sort of vibe, and the wide windows made it look bright and open, bigger than it was. A long white coffee bar took a lot of space in the room, showcasing a coffee machine and a glass case with several pastries and cakes. 

Immediately, Nines’ security protocols, that had been dormant until he began to work in the DPD, kicked into life. Before Nines could cancel the process, the scan was done, every inch of the coffee shop maped and accounted for. It upset Nines, the way the room transformed from a nice, cozy place, to emergency exits and data points. 

“Can I help you?” a cautious voice said, and it wasn’t until he looked at the guarded face of a waitress that Nines noticed he’d been standing imobile at the door for god knows how long.

He opened his mouth before closing it again, too distressed to form words. In an attempt to gather his thoughts, he looked around again, this time making sure to keep his protocols in check.

The sitting area of the café was divided into two. The one closest to the door had the walls lined up with bar stools in which a couple of people were already sitting, working on their tablets; but there was another more private room in the back, the wooden tables and benches making it more comfortable and private.

And there, from across the room, although Nines was fifteen minutes early, Gavin was looking at him.

Nines froze.

Although he’d been wanting to meet Gavin like this for a long time, as his thirium pump began to hum on his chest, he realized he was not prepared at all. It was now obvious that, in the time since Nines had been worked in the DPD, he had not allowed himself to really look at Gavin. He did so now, drinking him in, cataloguing the differences between the man sitting at the other end of the room and the one in Nines’ memory.

And Gavin looked different. In deference of the season, he was wearing a forest green christmas sweater that made his usually color changing eyes look deep green. Furthermore, there was something in the way he was looking at Nines that made the android shiver, something hot and intense and gentle at the same time that made Nines want to cross the room and take Gavin into his arms.

So instead, Nines stared. He looked and looked and looked, thinking he’d never get enough of Gavin.

“Sir?” the waitress asked, and it was her nervousness that snapped Nines out of it.

“I…” he began. Irrationally, he wanted to hide his face, and knew that, had he been able to, he’d have been blushing. “Someone’s waiting for me.”

It brought him joy to say it, not only because it was true but because, although Nines had been early, Gavin had been earlier still. To see him. Gavin had wanted to see him.

Nines’ LED shone bright blue as he crossed the room in three big steps, not caring if he came across as too eager. He was just glad he didn’t trip on anything and that he managed to take a seat across Gavin without any mishap.

“Hey there, tin man,” Gavin greeted, voice soft, and Nines’ lashes fluttered under the onslaught of feeling. He’d missed this. He’d missed Gavin, and his voice, and his gentleness. 

However, something must have come across wrong, because Gavin flinched and when he spoke again there was a note of panic to his voice. Panic and something bitter that Nines didn’t like either.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin said. “I actually...I never asked if it bothered you that I called you that, and I…”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Nines blurted out, cutting Gavin off, and forced himself to keep talking, not wanting to leave doubts about his feelings. “I like the nickname, and I...I’m happy.” Nines LED whirled like mad as he tried to find out what he wanted to say next, and then, shyly, “I missed you.”

It was Gavin who had to drop his eyes this time. He clenched his hands under the table, as if Nines wouldn’t notice, and Nines was about to kick himself when he saw the blush begin on Gavin’s cheeks.

Oh.

“...I missed you too,” Gavin whispered, voice low and raw, and the emotion Nines felt in answer was too powerful for him to deal with.

There was a long moment of silence in which they sat like that, neither of them looking at the other. Thankfully, the tension was broken by the waitress taking their order, and by the time they had decided what to drink --Gavin a mint hot chocolate and Nines thirium tea-- the mood was relaxed enough that Nines felt able to think clearly again.

“I’ve been wanting to apologize to you,” Gavin began, and Nines snapped into attention. “These past months I have been awful to you, and said terrible things, and I…” he breathed deeply, as if to gather strength. “I’m sorry.”

Nines nodded, accepting the apology. A couple of weeks ago he would have argued with Gavin, try to defend him against himself, but both Mrs Parker and Rin had drilled into his head the importance of letting everyone take responsibility for their own mistakes, no matter how much Nines didn’t blame Gavin for any of it.

“I want to apologize too,” Nines answerer instead. Gavin opened his mouth to speak and closed it again, and Nines’ LED blinked blue with a smile because he was certain Gavin had just had the same impulse as him. “This all began because I was not able to be honest. I was too caught up in my own feelings to think about yours, and I hurt you. I’m sorry too.”

“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Gavin frowned. “It’s not your fault I’m, ah, well...not your fault I have issues,” Nines wanted to disagree, but Gavin stalled him by raising a hand. “Whatever the reason, hurt doesn’t justify being an asshole,” he grimaced. “And I am. Was. Trying not to.”

Nines’ LED blinked amber as he thought hard about this. 

He would be lying if he said Gavin’s words didn't hurt. Both the distance and his words had been very painful, and although Nines understood how it’d been his own actions that made Gavin lash out, he also could understand how such reaction wasn’t okay.

Nines hadn’t expected an apology. He hadn’t expected one, but even so it was a non issue because it had been long since he had forgiven Gavin.

“I forgive you,” Nines said, and when Gavin flinched it became apparent to Nines that Gavin had not expected to be forgiven.

“Thank you,” Gavin mumbled after a while. His voice sounded choked, like speaking was an effort.

Their drinks came up then, and this gave them a little break, an excuse to look at something other than each other. They both pretended to find their drinks very interesting for a while, but it was Gavin who could not stand the silence any longer.

“So, how have you been?” he asked, tentative. But Nines didn’t need to be asked twice.

As Nines launched into an update of the cats --he and Olivier had upgraded the winter shelters Gavin had dragged out at the beginning of the cold season-- and of his new relationship with Margaret, it felt like nothing had happened between them at all. Gavin’s eyes were warm, and he was smiling slightly as Nines recounted everything that had happened to him in minute detail, humming and nodding in all the right places.

“It was her who gave me the idea of the letter,” Nines concluded when he finished telling Gavin about Margaret, and blinked as he realized something. 

“Yes, I read it,” Gavin said, correctly guessing Nines’ hesitation. “It took me a while, but yeah.”

“Oh,” Nines breathed. Something warm and liquid like honey spilled down his chest into his gut, warming him. He’d been keenly aware of the possibility that Gavin might not read the letter, and the knowledge that he had managed to convey his feelings made Nines almost dizzy with relief. “I’m glad. Thank you.”

“Why would you…” Gavin began. “Why would you even…” he tried again, and because Nines knew what it felt to struggle with your words, he waited, patiently and without censure. Gavin seemed to fight with himself for a few long moments. “I mean, you don’t even know if I’m into men, much less androids…”

That, however, was easy for Nines to answer.

“Yes, to be honest I never truly expected my romantic affection for you to be returned,” he said, honestly. He watched with fascination as Gavin’s blush intensified the longer he went on, and that urged him to keep talking. “I _ hoped _ you would. But I…is this strange? Despite my affections being returned or not, I wanted you to know me. As friends, or as something more, I want you to know me almost as much as I want to know you.”

At this, Gavin covered his mouth with one hand, ducking his face in an attempt to hide his expression. His other hand was flat against the table, and Nines didn’t need to scan him to know how his words were affecting him. It was an intoxicating thing, to have this kind of power, and Nines wanted more of it. He wanted Gavin’s blush, and his beating heart, and his embarrassed expression.

“How can you say such things with a straight face, tin man?” Gavin mumbled, eyes averted.

“Well…” Nines trailed off. In a rush of courage, he raised a hand to trace a finger down Gavin’s warm face, down his cheek and over his stubble, an impossibly sweet barely-there caress that made Gavin’s breath stutter. “It does seem to get this kind of reaction out of you,” Nines informed him, sly. “I can admit I find it very satisfying…that I _ like _ seeing you flustered by my words.”

“Shit,” Gavin cursed, but didn’t pull away, and this was what encouraged Nines to cup Gavin’s chin like he had long wanted to, lifting the man’s head to make him look at Nines.

And he did. Face aflame, Gavin surrendered to the touch, allowing Nines to have everything he could read on Gavin’s expression. Through the simple touch, Nines could feel the way Gavin’s heart was speeding up, and it seemed impossible that so many things had happened between them, that they still had so much to talk about, because at the moment there was nothing more than them both and the undeniable attraction Nines had felt since before he knew what it was, electric and hot and magnetic.

“Am I to understand I have a chance of winning your affections?” Nines asked, hoping he was reading Gavin correctly. “Gavin. Will you give me a chance?”

“You’re an android,” Gavin tried to stall.

“Yes.”

“And I am not— I have not been— I’m not exactly—“ Gavin spluttered. “Look, I’m just gonna say it, okay? I’m not an easy person to get along with. I’m an asshole, I’m competitive, and I don’t play well with others. Also, trust is not something that comes easily to me. I lash out: look at the way I treated you. I don’t even know what it is that you saw in me, especially after that— actually, since you’re friends with Connor, it kinda baffles me. I have done nothing to deserve…” Gavin swallowed, voice softening. “There is no reason for you to be in my corner.”

Nines tilted his head at this, his hand dropping back down to the table. Toughtfully, he wrapped both hands around his beverage, letting the warmth and the physicality of the touch to ground him.

_ Why? _ Nines wondered.

It was such a strange question. Why did he want to support Gavin? Why did he fall in love with him? 

Nines didn’t have an answer. It had not been like ticking off a checklist; he had not even been looking for it. Much like with the cats, it had just happened because he had not been able to help it.

“Do I need a reason?” Nines asked in the end, voice low and careful. Although Gavin had not said as much, Nines was aware this was important to him, if the way he was hunched on himself, as if expecting Nines to stand up and leave him any second now. “Do I need to justify my feelings?” Because he didn’t want to, and the thought made something churn in his stomach.

“No!” Gavin jumped. “Fuck, no, I didn’t mean…”

But, unlike Gavin, Nines wasn’t upset. Testing a theory, he reached across the table to gently touch Gavin’s hand, only the tips of their fingers brushing because that was a much as he dared. Immediately, Gavin deflated, the words dying on his lips as he stared at their hands, dumbfounded.

“There is not one thing,” Nines told him, and Gavin’s attention snapped to his face again at once. “You listened to me. At first perhaps I was just curious...but every time I had your attention I felt...seen. Like those parts of me that I hated were allowed to exist. With you I feel...myself. From the start I treasured every time we were together, and like that, little by little you became precious to me.”

Nines nodded, satisfied at having said what he wanted for once. With fascination, he watched the play of feelings in Gavin’s face, for once open and unhidden. And there was something vulnerable to him, something raw in the way Gavin looked at Nines as if he had never seen him before. It was a look Nines had seen a couple of times, but never like this, under the sunlight, displayed for him as an offer.

Gavin fought with himself in silence for a long time. Nines didn’t know what it was that Gavin felt he had to fight so fiercely, but once again he patiently waited, willing his encouragement and his affection to reach Gavin through the small touch they were sharing.

Finally, Gavin closed his eyes and swallowed. 

Slowly, he turned his hand under Nines’, and when the android was about to pull away, Gavin reached towards him, tangling their fingers together, face aflame. Nines’ metal heart soared, because he understood the connotation of the gesture, the intimacy of the touch, and wondered if his systems wouldn’t malfunction under the assault of happiness.

“Gavin?” he asked, beaming. “Are you attracted to me?”

Gavin choked, making a sound halfway between a chuckle and a groan. He covered his face with one hand, shaking, and Nines didn’t think he could turn redder but he did. Also, he was pleased to notice Gavin hadn’t felt the need to disentangle their hands even in his embarrassment.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Nines observed. “Forgive me. I am trying to understand, but as you know, my social protocols don’t allow me to...”

“Nines, don’t take this the wrong way but please shut up for a second,” Gavin requested, and it took Nines a second to recognize the laughter hidden in Gavin’s voice, under the disbelief. “You’re so…” he began, finally peering under his hand with wet, shiny eyes. “Who the fuck even asks...you’re going to kill me. Yes,” Gavin admitted. “Yes, I...I’m attracted to you.”

“I see,” Nines answered, delighted because he had thought as much, but hearing the confirmation made something ease within him, made the happiness feel less sharp but more encompassing, enveloping him in a pleasant way.

“Yep, I can be an adult about this,” Gavin mumbled to himself. “Nines, what do you want us to be?”

“I’d like for us to be in a romantic relationship,” Nines immediately answered, because he did have an answer for _ that _.

“Jesus. Okay,” Gavin grimaced a little, and Nines was afraid he had everything wrong before he realized something important.

“What do _ you _ want?” he asked.

Gavin blinked as if coming back from far away. He looked taken aback by the question.

“I…” he licked his lips, frowning before cautiously peering up at Nines. Nines didn’t understand the expression until he realized Gavin was trying to read him. Trying to figure out if his answer would displease him, and that was--

Discreetly, Nines let out a breath. He’d seen this side of Gavin before too, a long time ago when he had offered to read to him and Gavin had looked at him as if the truth would make Nines lash out at him.

Arming himself with patience, Nines waited. It occurred to him that, since the protocols that would have allowed him to emote were non existent, Gavin was not going to be able to gauge his reaction like this. Gently, he squeezed Gavin’s fingers fingers instead, trying to reassure him, to convey it was okay and this could be something they both wanted, something they both agreed with.

“I’d like,” Gavin began again, still tense but relaxing a little at Nines’ physical reassurance. “I’d like it if we chilled out for a while. Get to know each other better?” he half asked. He was doing a good job projecting confidence, but Nines could keep track of his pulse from their touch and wondered what it was that Gavin was afraid of. “This has been a bit much. For me. And we need to talk about a lot. So I’d like if. If we took things slow.”

“Of course,” Nines answered immediately. He was not sure what slow meant, exactly, but it didn’t sound like an issue to him. It was not like he was in a hurry.

“You’re not...disappointed?” Gavin blurted out, voice tinged with disbelief.

“Why would I be disappointed?” Nines wondered aloud. He’d already gotten more than he’d ever expected after all. “I will wait until you are ready,” he added, trying to be reassuring.

The look Gavin threw at him was unreadable. But he nodded, and that was that.

* * *

In the cold of the morning the garden felt like it was sleeping, patiently waiting for the upcoming spring to bloom again. Still, although at first glance the garden looked empty, Rin toiled, pruning and mulching and taking care of the plants so they could bloom unimpeded as soon as they had the conditions to do so.

Nines had given up helping her after the first ten minutes, and so he now sat on their usual bench and smiled, LED blue, as he finished recounting his conversation with Gavin and the date they had planned in two days.

“Good for you!” Rin grinned, standing up from where she’d been crouching near the end of the garden, where the frost always did the most damage. “That’s great news, Nines! I’m glad you managed to talk and understand each other.”

“I’m happy too,” Nines declared solemnly, and Rin laughed in delight. That day, her short hair was purple and teal green, kept out of her face by star shaped pins. There, laughing in the middle of the sleeping garden, she was beautiful, and Nines couldn’t help the rush of love at the sight of his friend.

“You’ll have to tell me all the juicy details after,” she gossiped, cleaning her hands on her neon tartan apron. “Actually, since it will be close to Christmas...I’ve been meaning to ask, where are you spending the holiday?”

“With Connor and Hank,” Nines answered, surprised. Connor had stumbled with his words for five minutes a couple of weeks ago before Hank sighed and explained to Nines what Connor wanted to ask. Nines had been touched, and more so when he synched with Connor and felt how much his presence was wanted.

_ Family _, Connor had said, and Nines had been delighted to accept.

“Ah, with your brother. Well,” Rin smiled. “I figured, but thought I’d ask anyway. Laura and I would love to have you too.”

“Oh,” Nines said, and once again Connor’s voice echoed in his head: family.

“But I don’t want you to worry, okay? Let’s meet the next day. Exchange gifts and stuff. Would you like that?”

Nines’ LED blinked, blue, blue, blue.

“I’d greatly enjoy that,” he said and Rin cheered, raising a hand to high five Nines. A couple of beats later, he complied.

They chatted for a while longer, although of nothing important. Nines treasured moments like these, when he got to spend time with his friends without motive, just enjoying each other’s company.

Nines stood from the bench when the clock struck nine, ready to go into the library. He had the night shift, which meant he was free during the day, and he was going to spend it volunteering. He could not wait to begin. 

He was almost at the door when Rin’s voice stopped him and Nines, for the first time, noticed the other android had not followed him.

“Nines…” she began. She was twisting her hands on her apron and she looked serious, like she wanted to say something important.

“Yes?”

“I…”

“Mr Nines!” a small voice yelled, interrupting, and Nines had only a second of warning to kneel and catch the child that launched himself trustingly into his arms.

“Oliver!” Margaret scolded from a few paces away. The boy ignored her, giggling in Nines’ embrace, pulling away a little to look at him with dark mischievous eyes.

“Good morning, Oliver,” Nines greeted, his calm making Oliver giggle louder. “I see you have a lot of energy this morning.”

“Nana made pancakes for breakfast,” the boy answered like that was an explanation.

And perhaps it was because Margaret sighed dramatically, although not doing a good job hiding the smile that pulled at the corners of her mouth.

“And that might have been too much sugar for you,” the woman grumbled, but it was good natured. “I hope you don’t mind that we came over. Oliver heard you’d been volunteering and thought he’d drop by and bother you.”

“Nana!” Oliver complained. “I will not bother Mr Nines!”

“That’s a promise,” Margaret informed him, and Nines smiled, face impassive and LED shining blue on his temple.

Nines turned to Rin then, intent on asking her what she had wanted to tell him, but, like a mirage, Rin was smiling now, the heavy seriousness of moments ago nowhere to be found.

Even though they’d already known each other, for Margaret had brought Oliver to the library a couple of times already, Nines formally introduced everyone. It was a happy feeling, knowing that his friends finally knew each other.

The four of them went into the library, and it was a couple of hours in that Nines had the second surprise of the day. Amelia walked in holding Cecil’s hand, and then, for the second time that day, Nines found himself with an armful of small child.

The noise, of course, summoned Oliver from where he’d been quietly reading in the children’s section. The boy stopped, seemingly surprised to see a boy his own age hugging Nines too, but kept his distance until Nines waved him over.

“Oliver, this is Cecil, and Cecil’s mother Amelia,” Nines introduced, holding Cecil closer as the boy shyly peered up at the other boy. “Cecil, this is Oliver. Do you remember I told you about him?”

“He cares for the cats,” Cecil nodded enthusiastically, and Nines was happy Cecil felt well enough to be verbal today.

“That’s right,” he encouraged, beaconing Oliver closer. “Cecil is my friend. Like you are.”

“Oh.” The boy frowned for a moment, thinking, and Nines saw Margaret come closer from the corner of his eye, moving like she wanted to intervene. Nines shot her a glance, trying to stop her and give Oliver time to think things over at his own pace. Margaret must have understood somehow because she slowed her pace, countenance relaxing. And indeed, after a couple of heartbeats Oliver’s expression cleared and he grinned. “I want to be Cecil’s friend too,” he announced at the room at large, a little bit louder than necessary, and Nines felt Cecil stand up straighter in his arms, at attention although he was not quite looking at Oliver.

“Oliver,” Amelia intervened, voice gentle. “Cecil is not like other children…”

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Oliver interrupted, dismissing her with all the confidence of an eight year old. “Mr Nines told me. Cats also make friends different,” he declared, like that made all the sense in the world, and then extended a hand to Cecil. “Wanna draw?”

Before the adults could say another word, Cecil took Oliver’s hand, and, smiling, the boys walked back into the children’s section of the library.

“_ Well _,” Amelia laughed, breathlessly. She was shaking her head as she followed, but her smile was so bright it lit up the whole room.

It turned out, however, that the adults had nothing to worry about, because even when Cecil did become overwhelmed, Olivier just backed away and watched with attentive and alert eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Amelia apologized, holding her son tightly in the way she knew helped him calm down. By then she had already spent a while chatting with Margaret, arranging another tentative playdate for the children, and she was worried Cecil’s meltdown might scare the other boy away.

Oliver however, didn’t care about such things. “Is he okay?” he asked instead, and Margaret had never been prouder of her grandson than at that moment. “I just want him to be okay.”

“He’ll be fine,” Amelia reassured him. In her arms, Cecil had quieted down, wrapped tightly in a fluffy blanket and holding a stuffed toy in his hand. “And I’m sure he’d like to play with you again, if you’d like.”

“Really? He doesn’t hate me?” Oliver asked, doubtful. Immediately, Margaret walked behind him to rest a supportive hand on his shoulder. 

Amelia exchanged a quick glance with Margaret and smiled. “Oh, no sweetheart. Things are sometimes too much for Cecil, but it doesn’t mean he hates you.” 

“Oh. Okay then,” Oliver nodded, finally settling down. “I know! Next time, I’ll take pictures of the cats and we can draw them!”

This declaration seemed to trigger something within Cecil because he squirmed in his mother’s embrace. Amelia, blinked, surprised, when the small cat plushie was pressed against her face.

From the back of the room, where Nines was putting books away, he caught the gist of the flurry of signs as Cecil told something to his mother. Only his blue LED gave away Nines’ smile as he went on with his work.

“Cecil, are you sure?” Amelia asked, and after a couple of times of Cecil repeating the same sign, Amelia took the plushie from him and presented it to Oliver. “Cecil wants you to have it.”

Open mouthed, the boy looked up first at Margaret and then to Amelia. When both the adults nodded, he accepted the toy reverently.

It was a small thing, an orange striped cat with a white muzzle, old and worn, but still Oliver beamed at Cecil, who smiled shyly before hiding his face against his mother’s shoulder again.

Suddenly, Oliver’s smile dimmed. “...I have nothing to give back.” But once again, before the adults could intervene, Oliver ran away with a shout of, “I know!” dashing towards the children’s section and then back to the reading area Amelia had taken Cecil when the boy became overstimulated.

Proudly, Oliver handed a drawing to Cecil, and patiently waited until the other boy turned to acknowledge him. He just grinned when Cecil gripped the drawing, wrinkling it as he pulled it into his cocoon to look at it. 

“What do we say?” Amelia prompted, and a small hand came out of the cocoon and signed something before being tucked back in.

“You’re welcome!” beamed Oliver, and hung around in silence until Cecil felt well enough to go home.

The boy was a tad silent after that, and when Margaret prompted him to pick out books to take home, Oliver walked towards Nines instead and pulled on the android’s blue jumper to get his attention.

“What was that thing Cecil did with his hands?” he asked when Nines turned to him.

“Sign language,” Nines explained. “Sometimes Cecil finds it difficult to talk aloud, so he signs instead.”

“Oh. Like a secret language,” Oliver nodded, seriously, and Nines didn’t disabuse him of the notion. “Can I learn it?”

“If you study hard,” Nines informed him.

“Do you think Cecil will be mad if I learn his language?” Oliver asked, and his desire to be liked by his new friend was so obvious and transparent that Nines felt his metaphorical heart swell. 

Because he could not help it, he knelt and hugged the child, touched when Oliver melted into him, soaking the affection.

“I’m sure Cecil will be pleased that you are trying to understand him,” Nines reassured him and Oliver immediately brightened. “Would you like some books to get you started?” he asked, but looked at Margaret, who was watching the scene from the end of aisle with soft eyes.

“Can I?” Oliver asked his grandmother, following Nines’ eyes.

“It will be hard work. Are you sure you can handle it?” Margaret inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“I can,” was Oliver’s answer, and with that determined expression in his small face, he looked remarkably like his grandmother. Then, he blinked, and deflated a little, “But if it’s too hard, can you help me, Nana?”

Margaret laughed, a merry, lovely sound. “My dear child!” she chuckled, eyes shiny. “Of course I will! I will always help you, you hear me?”

Oliver beamed, obviously delighted as he began to talk a mile a minute, telling Margaret all about his plans, and the obvious love between them warmed Nines too as if he were standing near the fireplace.

It was a happy enough feeling that, when he helpfully took the books to the counter to be checked out, and Emma ignored him, he almost didn’t feel the pang of hurt at the gesture.

* * *

Although still early, the sun had already set when Nines left the library.

There were a couple of hours left until closing, but Nines had a night shift on the DPD and wanted a couple of hours to quell his anxiety before he had to clock in. 

Rin walked beside him. It was a usual thing that she’d leave the library before closing, but when she’d seen Nines leaving she’d announced she’d walk him home, and it wasn’t like Nines was complaining.

“I’m sorry about Emma. I’m sure Laura must be scolding her right now,” Rin began with a sigh. The woman had blatantly ignored Nines all day, talked around him as if she couldn’t see him. It was a childish behavior, and it worked because Nines felt hurt, losing his nerve whenever he saw her. “That behavior is not acceptable.”

“It should be me talking to her,” Nines admitted. “But whenever I think the moment is right, I look at her and I...can’t.”

“I understand,” Rin answered. Although she had no need for it, she was wearing a pretty red winter coat and a bright yellow scarf with white smiling daisies. “Sometimes, when we have something important to say, it’s harder to say it to those we love.”

Nines turned his head to look at Rin. She was looking straight forward, lost in her thoughts, and Nines remembered that strange moment of tension in the garden. 

Around them, the street was quiet. It was the first official day of winter, but the weather was milder than it had been in the past two weeks. Still, this was hardly a place to have a personal conversation, but Nines also knew that the right timing was something that never arrived. It was only ever about the people involved being ready.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, and Rin froze, looking up at him with a mix of apprehension and regret.

“I…” she tried, twisting her hands. “I’m leaving,” she blurted out, and Nines’ LED froze red in shock, for whatever Rin wanted to say he had not expected it to be this. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you! It’s just...I’ve known I didn’t fit in the library for a long time, and even though I wanted to do something else, the Revolution was barely a year ago so I didn’t think it would happen so soon!” Rin babbled. “A couple of months back some scholarships were announced for androids that wished to pursue studies outside of their programming. There’s so much that installing protocols can do, and seeing that we, as androids, can actually learn...there’s this sort of test run, to see if we’d do well in university. I didn’t expect anything to come out of it! But Laura said I should apply, and I did, and I…got it.”

Nines stared at her, and Rin must have taken it the wrong way because she started talking again.

“I know I should have told you sooner, but it felt like such an ambitious dream, and you were going through so much at first, and then I felt like if I talked about it, it wouldn’t come true and…”

“Rin,” Nines interrupted, finally. Emotion was like the sea, different waves hitting him and overwhelming him until he could not think clearly, but he pushed past them because he loved Rin, and he understood what this meant for her. So he went to her, and bending slightly he pushed his forehead against hers, their own gesture of love. “Congratulations.”

Rin trembled, closing her eyes for a moment.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” Nines asked. He felt like crying, because in truth he didn’t want to part from his friend, but he was also so happy that it felt like the feeling might overflow. “I’m happy. I’m so happy for you. Congratulations.”

Rin swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice small and frail, and she sounded like she was crying too.

“When are you leaving?”

“There’s still some paperwork to sort out, but the semester begins in spring. I will be flying out for a couple of days around New Year’s to sort out some details,” Rin explained, and Nines felt selfish for being grateful that they still had a little time together left. “Laura will come with me.”

“Will you tell me…?” Nines asked, tentative, relieved when Rin did.

She told him everything, all of the details and her dreams, and Nines felt incredibly thankful that she trusted him enough to share all of this with him. They ended up walking together all the way to Nines’ apartment, and because he had some hours left until he had to leave for work and neither of them felt like parting, Nines invited Rin up.

It was the first time Nines had invited a friend over, and was a bit ashamed when he realized he had nowhere for them to sit other than his green armchair, and nothing to offer to his friend. However, he’d seen Margaret’s light on, and he excused himself to quickly run downstairs and ask Margaret for some thirium tea and two mugs, explaining his predicament.

Margaret didn’t need more prompting. Efficiently, she produced a cardboard box from somewhere, and placed inside a tin of the tea she usually served to Nines, a black old fashioned kettle, and two mismatched tea cups (a blue one covered with pink roses and a more modern yellow one with stripes) with their respective dishes.

“It’s a gift,” she explained, sending Nines on his way. “Have fun.”

Later on, Nines would be proud to have something to place in his empty cabinets, but at that moment the gift meant so much to him that he knew not how to thank Margaret other than placing a soft kiss on her cheek with a small _ thank you _.

Margaret flushed, cackled, and pushed Nines towards the door, “Away with you!”

Nines obeyed, and when he went back home he placed his cat blanket on the floor, and he and Rin sat on it like they were having a picnic, and had tea, and Nines was certain there weren’t better people in the world than the ones he had as friends.

* * *

Nines’ date with Gavin took place on the 23rd of December, and by Gavin’s request, it was completely the man that planned it.

They met at noon in front of Nines’ apartment. The weather, which had been so nice the previous days, once again turned for the worse. It was cloudy when Nines stepped outside, the sky grey in that ominous way that often preceded snow.

Just like time in the coffee shop, Gavin was already waiting when Nines left the building. He was dressed for the weather, in a dark winter jacket with a hoodie and wine colored gloves. And as it happened of late whenever Nines saw him, he felt his thirium pump speed up. It was not the first time it occurred to him, but Gavin was very handsome.

“Ready?” Gavin asked, and too flustered to string words together, Nines simply nodded.

They ended up taking the bus for about fifteen minutes to a part of the city Nines had walked in his original explorations, but never in winter. The ride was awkward, the silence heavy with the tension of things that had not yet been resolved. After a while, Nines asked Gavin about Felicia, and Gavin gave an update that felt stilted, leaving them both trying to figure out how to talk to each other again.

Luckily, the trip was short. When they arrived, Nines was pleasantly surprised by the Christmas market that extended along a narrow street, starting from a medium sized square. Immediately, Nines perked up, eyes bright with interest, because he had never been at a Christmas market before.

“I hope this isn’t too lame,” Gavin said rubbing his neck, as if Nines wouldn’t have been happy anywhere as long as they were together.

“This is my first time at a Christmas market,” he told Gavin instead, pleased when Gavin’s whole countenance softened, a smile pulling on his lips.

Nines was almost vibrating with excitement as they walked by the first few stands. The fourth one belonged to a woman that sold colorful decorations made of some sort of vegetable fiber, and Nines didn’t know what Gavin saw in him because they had barely walked a couple of steps away when the man stopped him.

“Is there something you want to ask?” Gavin questioned. He was looking at Nines with an intense sort of attention that made the android shiver.

“Ah. Nothing that I can’t look up,” Nines said, but he knew it was the wrong answer when Gavin raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “I was wondering about those ornaments, but there’s no need…”

Gavin wasn’t listening anymore. Without hesitation he took Nines’ hand --Nines’ LED blushed pink-- and dragged him back in front of the stand. “Come on,” Gavin encouraged him. “I’m sure she will be happy to talk to you about her craft.”

The woman was. Nines listened, fascinated, as she explained how she weaved the ornaments out of palm leaves. She made one in front of Nines for him to see, and after Nines had satisfied his curiosity, Gavin bought two decorations from the woman: a star and a sphere.

“For you,” he said, presenting them to Nines. The tips of his ears were red, and he was not quite looking at the android.

Nines received them reverently and stared at them until he had every single detail engraved in his mind. Then, “Oh,” he whispered as he realized. “I don’t have a tree to hang them on.”

Gavin laughed. “Me neither,” he grinned. “I don’t have anything Fliss can destroy. But...it makes you happy to have them, doesn’t it?” Nines noded. “That’s enough then.”

As if by some sort of magic, that strange tension between them vanished at that. They were chatty as they walked through the market, pointing out interesting things to one another, and if they stood too close and their touches lingered, Nines reminded himself that it was okay because they were on a date.

Eventually, Nines noticed the way Gavin’s eyes lingered on the food but never had any, saying he was not hungry when Nines asked him about it.

Seeing as very little of the food was even close to resembling an actual meal, Nines wasn’t convinced.

“I’d love to try it,” he said, glancing towards a stand that sold mulled wine and trying hard to look forlorn. “Androids can have some human food, but there’s no way I’d be able to finish a mug.”

Gavin narrowed his eyes at him, clearly seeing through Nines’ rouse. Nines held the man’s stare, relieved that his face gave nothing away even though his LED was merrily twinkling with humor in his temple.

Gavin rolled his eyes as he went to buy the requested treat, but there was a small smile on his lips as he did.

That set up a pattern. Whenever they passed a stand that sold something Gavin’s eyes lingered on, Nines would stop and request they sample it. Gavin always complied, always giving Nines the first bite before he finished whatever it was they had bought. It was silly, and adorable, and Nines had never thought sharing food was intimate, but it was. A blush set high on Gavin’s cheeks the more they walked and talked and laughed, and whenever their hands bumped Nines wondered if it was okay if he laced their fingers together.

_ Slow _, Gavin had said, and Nines had not asked what that meant. Still, he was determined to respect Gavin’s boundaries this time and go at his pace.

Which, of course, was easier said than done. They had already walked around the market and they were almost back on the main square when something caught Nines’ eyes. It was a stand that sold scarves in all colors and sizes, every single one fluffy, and some with hoods of sorts that had animals’ ears attached to them. And there, in the middle of the display, there was a pastel pink cat one, not only with ears but with pockets at the end with little cat paws printed on them.

Nines stopped in his tracks. He walked to the stand as if under a spell, not quite believing what he was seeing.

“Something you like?” Gavin prompted, peering from around Nines.

“We have a lot of scarves that’ll suit the gentleman,” the man at the stand said, and showed Nines a sober grey scarf, something he evidently thought he’d like.

Right.

Because Nines was stern and big, and a cute pink fluffy cat scarf would never suit him.

Embarrassed by his own childishness, Nines was already reaching for the scarf the man was handing to him when Gavin’s hand cut him off by grabbing the pink one Nines had been so enamored with.

“We’ll take this one,” he informed the man, and ignored the raised eyebrows as he paid for it. Without hesitation, and without accepting the bag the man offered, Gavin wrapped the scarf around Nines’ neck. It was very soft, and it smelled like strawberries.

“Gavin,” Nines began, agitated. “It doesn’t suit me.”

“Whatever makes you happy, remember?” Gavin reminded him, and then, after an awkward beat, “It does suit you.”

Nines looked away, overcome with a strong emotion he didn’t have a name for. Unable to put it into words, he fell back into something he had discovered recently: touch. Humans used touch to convey affection, and although Nines wasn’t human, he’d discovered it worked for him well when his words failed him. So, before he could talk himself out of it, he did what he had wanted all afternoon and reached to take Gavin’s gloved hand on his.

Gavin stiffened. 

Uncertain, they awkwardly stared at each other for an endless moment, before Gavin pulled his hand away.

Nines recoiled, ashamed of having misread the situation before noticing what Gavin was doing. 

Raising his hand to his mouth, Gavin used his teeth to bite the top part of the glove’s middle finger, cramming it in his pocket when it slid off. Then, he reached once again for Nines’ hand, holding securely now that they were skin to skin.

Nines suppressed a shudder, a warning popping in his HUD about overheating, because Gavin’s hand was warm, and his pulse was quick, and Nines felt as if all the thirium in his body had suddenly turned into lava.

When he could finally tear his eyes from their joined hands, it was to see Gavin watching him. His eyes were dark, intense, and Nines didn’t know when exactly they had gotten so close.

Gavin licked his lips, and Nines followed the movement.

This time, however, the tension was broken by a single white flake that floated between them. It fell, big and light like a feather, making them both look towards the sky at the same time.

It was snowing.

From above, gentle snowflakes were beginning to fall. Nines watched, fascinated, at the different shapes of the snowflakes, watched as they melted when they touched Gavin’s hair, or his jacket.

“Come on,” Gavin prompted with a smile, pulling him by their joined hands. “A choir is going to sing carols in the other side of the square.”

Nines followed Gavin, and listened to the carols in the midst of a crowd made of both humans and androids. The snow was gentle, and the sun was setting, and Nines got to watch the lights of the market turn on while holding the hand of someone he loved. Gavin’s knuckles were turning red from the cold, but still he didn’t let go of Nines’ hand, so Nines re-routed some of his energy to warm up the hand that was holding Gavin’s to compensate.

Like that, Nines took in his surroundings --the lights, the laughter of people enjoying the market with their families, the smells and the sounds, and the snow so very gently falling down on them-- and while holding Gavin’s hand it occurred to him that the world was very different than he had imagined on those dark lonely days, when all he had was an empty room, whispers, and a locked window. Different because it was harder and more painful than he had expected, but much bigger and much more beautiful also.

* * *

When Christmas came, Nines was still thinking about his date. 

He had already recalled it in detail three times: once to Rin, once to Margaret and once to Connor. Still, it was constantly on his mind, a perfect moment in time, and he always felt excited to think that, although he and Gavin hadn’t made any plans yet, there would hopefully be more to come.

Christmas was a modest affair at Hank’s place. Hank and Connor had the day off, unlike Nines that had to work. He arrived to Hank’s late on the 25th, but the lights were on, and the house decorated with Christmas lights Connor had told him had been bought for the occasion. When the door opened, Connor and Hank were there, happy to see him, and Nines also felt happy to be there.

They talked, and laughed, and tried some thirium beverages Connor had bought for the occasion, and so when midnight came, Nines felt warm and comfortable, ready for the part he’d been more excited about: the presents. Although he couldn’t show it outwardly, he was vibrating with excitement when Hank announced they could begin the exchange. Connor, who knew him, noticed, and gestured for him to pick something out first. 

Nines picked the reindeer paper bag of the gift he had bought for Connor and proudly presented it to his brother, eager to see his reaction. 

The way Connor’s mouth hung open as he saw the scarf with dog ears --a match to the cat one Gavin had given Nines-- was deeply satisfying. Hank chuckled when Connor tried it on, and when Hank kissed Connor on the cheek, whispering to him how adorable he looked, Nines sat back down, satisfied that his gift was a success.

Connor received an ugly Christmas jumper from Hank, and Hank got a couple of equally hideous shirts and an LP from Nines. On his part, Nines savored every second of opening his gift, carefully peeling the tape as not to damage the wrapping paper. 

His LED blinked amber in delight when he unwrapped a Terry Pratchett book collection. He’d already read several, but felt very touched because this was something he had mentioned to Connor in passing and his brother had obviously remembered.

“Merry Christmas, Nines,” Connor told him after Nines spent entirely too long staring at the books, only to stand up and pull Connor into a hug.

From Hank he got a beautiful collection of bookmarks. “So you can use with your new books,” winked the man, and Nines hugged him as well, undaunted by Connor’s laughter.

“Let’s finish the thirium cocktails?” Connor proposed. “And Hank can have dinner.”

“Make yourself at home,” Hank said before leaving the living room to join Connor in the kitchen, and Nines did, going to Hank’s bookshelves first because if he was ever curious about something, it was about what people had on their bookshelves.

It turned out that Hank liked to read thrillers. There were a lot of detective stories, mystery, and a beautifully bound collection of Sherlock Holmes. This last one caught his attention because it was identical to the one Gavin had. Curious, Nines pulled the first volume from the shelf --_ A Study in Scarlet _\-- and opened it to check for an inscription. 

There was none. Instead, there was only a year written on a corner: 2030.

Nines frowned, because although there were only four numbers, he’d committed enough of Gavin’s little notes to memory to recognize the handwriting.

Now more curious than ever, he returned the book to the shelf and pulled out a second. Immediately, he saw the slight bump between the pages. 

It was a photo.

Surprised, Nines looked upon a young grinning Gavin. He was wearing a police uniform, the rank on it placing him as an officer. There was a tall, blond man with short hair that had an arm around his shoulders, and Nines’ LED blinked red when he recognized the man as a younger version of Hank.

Nines blinked, baffled. He hadn’t known Gavin and Hank were on speaking terms at all, but it was obvious that the men in the photo where close, because Hank was beaming and Gavin had his body oh so slightly turned towards Hank, as if soaking the radiant warmth Hank seemed to emit.

“Nines?” Connor called from the kitchen. “We’re ready!”

Carefully, Nines returned the photo to its place between the pages of the book and placed the book back on the shelf. He intended to ask Hank about it, but when they sat down they started to talk about Sumo, and then Connor asked about Nines’ cats, and there wasn’t a good moment to ask. In the end, Nines pinned the question on his HUB as neither important nor urgent and dismissed it, certain he’d have time to ask about it later.

That night, Connor and Nines talked long after Hank went to bed. They lounged on the couch under a pile of blankets and talked, Connor laughing at Nines’ stories about the cats. It was then, when they were together and safe, that Nines heard from Connor the story of the Revolution, of Connor’s struggles and his deviancy.

It was a long, difficult story, and it took Connor a long time to tell. Furthermore, he didn’t leave anything out, sharing his doubts and fears, exposing all of his flaws for Nines to see, and in the end it was Nines that offered a hand to him, an invitation to synch.

That’s how dawn found them, curled together and holding hands, enjoying the reassurance they offered each other, the support, and the love.

On Hank’s shelf, the photo Nines discovered remained forgotten, an exact replica of the one Gavin had hidden in a shoe box in the depths of his closet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone notice they didn’t talk about anything important, much less about the whole I-left-the-job-I-loved-for-one-I-hate-because-of-you thing? That surely isn’t coming back to bite their asses. No sir’y.
> 
> Ok, but happy holidays to everyone! thanks for sticking with me this year, I wish everyone the best on 2020! See you next year! <3


	6. Interlude: Nines / Tina / Gavin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, sorry for the chaotic schedule, but I wanted to post this on my birthday, so happy birthday to me! Also, the other day I made numbers and realized I've written over 100k words for this series and like...thanks so much to everyone for reading so far! I'm very humbled and grateful by everyone's support, and well...it feels weird to finally write things that have more than a year in the making, but I'm excited too! 
> 
> There's something a bit different going on with this chapter, because it actually includes some music! I hope it isn't too awkward and the links don't break (not that you ABSOLUTELY need to listen to the songs or anything!). Also, there's a reference to Brooklyn 99 which comes from this [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HlBYdiXdUa8).

**1\. Nines (The Storm)**

It was on the last week of December that Nines set to do something he had long postponed: talking to Emma.

It had not quite been his idea. A couple of days after Christmas he made time in the morning to take Rin and Laura to the airport, a gesture of support Nines was too stubborn not to do.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Rin reassured him for the millionth time, not deceived by Nines’ serious expression for a second. “It’s only a week.”

_ This time _, Nines wanted to say, but didn’t because it wasn’t like Rin wasn’t aware of that either.

So Nines dutifully (and to be honest, needlessly) carried Rin and Laura’s suitcases around the airport and hugged them both goodbye. That had been when Rin had given him the box of chocolates, and when she asked, “Could you please give these to Emma for me?” there was no way Nines could refuse.

That’s how Nines found himself in front of a church, checking on his HUB, for the third time in five minutes, the pin of the map Rin had sent him. 

When he found himself in front of the wooden doors, Nines hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the opportunity Rin had created, because he did. In truth, he didn’t know how to face Emma. Whenever he’d committed a blunder --or gotten into a disagreement with a friend-- he’d known his position. He’d know what he’d done. This time, however, he was not certain why Emma’s reaction had been so extreme to something he’d been able to talk out with Rin already. It was the uncertainty that made him uneasy, anxious, and he hated not knowing what he wanted to say to the woman that once had been his friend too.

Discouraged, he looked up. There was something intimidating about the building, both because of its hard edges and what it represented. He, unlike some other androids, had not been programmed to believe in god and had never thought about taking any faith after. A bit superstitiously, Nines looked up to the stone saints that peered down at him with their blind eyes, wondering if they’d be displeased by an android entering their temple.

For a moment, he did not want to enter.

A strange feeling overtook him, something sticky and oily that left him feeling dirty. It was something that pulled down, down, touching with its dark tendrils what should have been peaceful days for Nines.

He’d been in this strange mood of late, as if there was a voice in his head he couldn’t interpret, the words like stones making ripples in water that should be calm.

Things were fine. Everything was _ fine _, so why was he feeling like this?

This he was thinking when a sharp little cry made him flinch, some strange instinct he couldn’t possibly have making his mind immediately jump to Oliver. Alert, he looked back just in time to see a little girl trip with her own feet and fall face down on the sidewalk, her head missing the first step of the stone stairs by an inch. Before he could react, the girl’s mother was there, soothing her with gentle hands and words, smoothing the child’s face out of her face when she began to cry.

Although he knew it wasn’t appropriate, Nines stared. 

Sniffling, the girl clung like a monkey to her mother, a show of blind trust that made an echo of an ache resonate somewhere within Nines. He’d seen Cecil, and Oliver, turn to Amelia and Margaret in the same way, completely confident in the fact that their parents would make everything better.

It had been on his mind for a while, what that would be like to be a child. To be taken care of. To have no doubt that the mere existence of another person meant that you’d always be loved and accepted, and would always have a safe place to return to.

_ Enough _, he scolded himself. He was not a child, he had never been a child, and he hadn’t time to lose on such thoughts when he had things that needed fixing. So, pushing himself to stop stalling, he turned towards the church’s door, surprised when an unexpected sound came through the wood-- first a voice speaking loudly and then a harmony made of voices.

His anxiousness fell away like a shedded skin at the sound, and, curiosity overtaking his somber mood, Nines finally pushed the door open.

Had he been human, he’d been breathless. 

Nines had never been in a church before, and this particular church was magnificent. Gothic in style, high walls and stone vaulted ceilings stretched over the android’s head. 

It was strange, being in such a place, Nines thought as he stared upwards, enchanted. Although he was inside, it was cold, and his imagination, which had been fed with plenty of fantasy books, couldn’t help but flee towards underground kingdoms, perhaps dwarfish dwellings, old cities carved from stone a hopeful fellowship passed through before one of them fell into the shadow.

However, Nines was distracted by such thoughts when the first chord of a harmony filled the church, bouncing off the stone walls in a way that suddenly reminded Nines of a wave crashing against the shore, big and powerful and unstoppable.

_ O courage my soul, and let us journey on... [[1]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2c9b10jca_I)  
_

LED jumping on his temple, Nines looked in wonder at the origin of the sound. 

_ For the night is dark and I am far from home. _

The choir was standing at the other end of the church beside the altar, around thirty people dressed in mismatched winter clothes. In front of them, a curly haired woman was moving her arms and stepping side to side, trying to make everyone in the choir follow her movements.

Nines looked to his heart’s content, too overcome by the music to do anything else. He’d known he liked music, of course, in that same vague way he knew he liked the sun being yellow. He was in contact with music often, even, because officer Miller always had music in the car, song filling the silence of long shifts, starving off boredom with its newness. Yet, Nines realized right then that he had never really listened to any of it. Not like this. 

Nines knew nothing about music. He knew nothing, but yet as he listened to the choir he felt it wash over him, alive in the same way a story was: moving and changing as different voices mingled, weaving in and out of the melody. He loved it, and couldn’t get enough of it.

Scattered clapping filled the silence the last note of the song left in its wake and Nines blinked slowly, as if waking. There were some people sitting on the benches, just listening, and Nines sat too, in a corner as unobtrusively as possible, and pushed away his doubts in favor of the music when Emma’s eyes found him from where she was singing in the choir.

With utmost concentration, he listened.

When the rehearsal ended, the church filled with chatter. 

Cautiously, Nines approached the front of the church. Although Emma ignored him, he knew she had seen him, and so Nines waited. He waited and waited, because if he was good at something it was at being patient, until a woman wearing the coif a nun went towards him.

“Can I help you?” she asked him politely, and Nines could see the tense line of her shoulders even as she smiled at him.

“I am…” he began to explain, but was spared by Emma finally deciding to come towards him at that moment.

“It’s alright, sister,” Emma said, resting a familiar hand in the other woman’s shoulder. “I know him.”

Immediately, Nines offered the chocolate box to Emma, and it was a bad beginning because she didn’t move until he added, “From Rin.”

Reluctantly, Emma accepted the box then. In a smooth gesture, she opened and read the small card attached to it and rolled her eyes in annoyance.

For a moment, she seemed to struggle with herself. Then, with a grimace, she grabbed a bright purple coat from the back of one of the benches and gestured Nines to follow her.

Outside the church the winter air was cold and, already used to the acoustics of the room, the sound seemed empty in comparison. Without looking at him, Emma guided them toward a stone bench near the church’s entrance, out of the way but close enough that the wooden door of the church was well in sight. She didn’t sit down.

She was serious when she showed the small card to Nines. It was a cheery red, but inside, written over the to/from tags in Rin’s cursive, was written in capital letters a single word: TALK.

“So, talk,” Emma shrugged, expression unreadable. “If you wanted an apology from my behavior I’ll tell you right now it won’t happen.”

This was neither what Nines wanted or expected, so to hide his uneasiness Nines laced his fingers together, LED shining amber under the stress.

“I wanted to apologize,” Nines started, uncertain as to how to continue, because although it had been long since he wanted to talk to Emma, and he regretted how things happened, he still could not regret the decision he had made for Gavin’s sake.

“What are you sorry for?” Emma pressed, as if reading his mind. “You disappeared one day, and let me tell you that even if you didn’t think of us as friends, it was a very unprofessional thing to do. You caused a lot of inconvenience for us leaving like that. We were understaffed as it was, more so now Rin’s going. You were taking the time she could have used to train a replacement, and you never deigned to tell her you didn’t want to work in the library?” she frowned, arms crossed over her chest. “Laura may have let it pass because Rin likes you, but it doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t pissed, because guess who had to make things work when you left.”

The silence between them was heavy, tense. Nines blinked, taken aback, and was glad of the small sounds of life at his back: people walking and chatting happily as they left the church. It helped him ground himself, small reminders of the world outside his head: he had not expected this, but it certainly explained Emma’s sudden animosity towards him.

“I know I was selfish,” he confessed, still trying to process what Emma had said. Although in an abstract level he had known all this, Rin had never confronted him about it. “I was too wrapped in my own feelings to consider everyone else’s, and that was a mistake. I’m sorry for that.”

A heat beat.

“Okay, glad we cleared that out, at least we are in agreement,” Emma said, beginning to walk away. “Good talk. Now, if you excuse me…”

“Emma...” Nines pleaded, trying to stop her, because as much as he hated this conversation he was certain they could find a way to understand each other if only they could talk some more.

“I hate people like you the most,” she spat at him, turning around, eyes hard with fury. “You were handed an opportunity on a silver plate, an opportunity the rest of us had to _ fight _ for, and what did you do? You threw it at Laura’s face so easily!”

“It was not--” Nines argued, stunned, “--it was not easy...”

“_ Good _ . Although I’m sure you think that’s enough of an excuse to do whatever you want,” she bit out. “As long as it wasn’t easy, as long as you feel _ bad _ about it, then you’re off the hook, isn’t that right? You don’t look at other people, your own feelings are enough to justify yourself,” Emma snorted. “Well, guess what? It doesn’t matter, because even if your intentions were good, the damage was the same!”

Nines took a step back as if struck, thirium pump racing in his chest. Suddenly, he was reminded of Margaret scolding him too, and although he wanted to defend himself, he was at a loss for what to say.

“I can work with you if you’re gonna keep being around because god knows we need all the hands we can get, but don’t expect us to be friends. Clearly neither your work or us were important enough to factor into your decisions, so why would I?”

Although it was obvious Emma didn’t expect an answer, Nines was spared from having to offer one by a person walking towards them.

“Emma, is everything alright?” a soft voice said, and when Nines turned, it was to meet the serious face of the curly haired woman that was the choir’s director. “We’re waiting for you to go have lunch,” the woman added, and although she was not hostile, the way she was looking at Nines was not friendly.

Nines took a step back.

“I’m fine,” Emma mumbled, turning her back on Nines to go towards the bottom steps of the church, where the rest of the choir had gathered, tensely looking towards them. “Just straightening some things up.”

Nines didn’t watch her go. Instead, he sat down on the bench, elbows resting on his knees, and tried to come to terms with the fact that perhaps sometimes there was not a way for people to understand each other.

*

The last days of the year passed in a whirl for Nines.

Work was going strangely well-- or at least both Connor and officer Miller told him so. It meant nothing to Nines, the congratulations after successful arrests leaving him cold. He couldn’t bring himself to care for any of it, the praise sliding off him like water, as if the words were meant for someone other than him.

However, a bright point of the end of the year was New Year’s Eve, which Nines spent with Connor and Hank. It was a modest and pleasant affair, similar to Christmas. They drank and talked (Hank had dinner) and the only difference was that the three of them stayed up talking nonsense until the small hours of the morning. Then, when Hank finally dozed off on the couch, Nines encouraged Connor to stay with Hank in their bedroom, reassuring him he’d be fine.

He’d believed it too. Nines intended to curl in the couch and maybe set a maintenance stasis for a couple of hours. However, when he sat down on the couch under a blanket for that purpose, he found that his mind was too busy to comfortably go into stasis.

The house was silent. Absently, Nines listened to the night sounds around him: the creeks of the house settling, the dripping of the pipes, Sumo’s soft snores as he slept curled on his big dog bed. It was…comforting, in a way. Around him, like mirages, memories of the time he’d spent with Connor and Hank danced happily. It was different from Nines’ apartment, because no matter how much he liked his own place, Hank and Connor’s home held only happy memories for him, warmth and joy and love.

And yet…

Nines stood from the couch to stare out of the window. Outside, the moon was a thin silver smile against the dark sky covered in stars. Clouds were moving fast across the sky, as if in a hurry, pushed by a high wind that didn’t quite touch the city.

In silence, Nines looked at the sky and found it beautiful. He was warm, still a bit drunk from the good company, and although he had the sense he should be happy, in the depths of his chest something stirred, that unsettling tendril of unrest rippling through his whole being, a drop disturbing the calm water of his feelings.

Thoughtful, Nines raised a hand to rub against the place his thirium pump was. He’d always found it interesting that his feelings translated in such a physical way, often equivalent to humans. Vaguely, he wondered if it was a psychosomatic thing or if it was a ghost the humans who had programmed him had left behind. An imprint of humanity hidden in his code.

Nines…wanted. He didn’t know what, or why, but there was a pull on his chest, calling him towards something he didn’t understand.

Longing.

It didn’t take him long to decide.

On a small table beside the door, he found in a drawer a bunch of post-its and pens. He wrote a short note for Connor, a new habit he’d found he enjoyed, before bundling himself on his winter coat, wrapped his pink cat scarf around his neck and left the house.

Outside, it was still dark. Nines raised his hands to his mouth, breathing out just to see the fog of his breath turn into smoke between them. The cold was biting, but although it might have been uncomfortable had Nines had been a human, for his systems it was just an inconvenience— an alert he had to keep an eye on, making sure not to stay cold for too long.

Without a glass between him and the starry sky, the stars looked clearer still. Face up towards the sky, Nines closed his eyes, taking in the cold settling on his cheeks almost like a physical touch, and surrounded by a sweet silence, he allowed himself to feel.

For a confused moment, his feelings welled up, bubbling and murky like dirty water. However, for once it was not overwhelming. Under the dark sky, on the first hours of the new year, Nines simply _ existed _. There was something sweet in the ache in his chest, tempered by the warmth companionship he’d just received from Connor and Hank. It was keen, the ache, but Nines didn’t fight it. 

It was part of him. It made it himself. It was proof he was alive.

When he began to walk, it was aimless at first. 

He loved to walk, and so now he did it on a whim, going down the streets that caught his attention. 

And while he walked, he thought. He remembered his conversation with Emma, recalled the words that had been rattling on his mind for several days.

_ You threw it at Laura’s face so easily! _

Had leaving the library been an easy choice? In truth, Nines found out he couldn’t tell. In some ways, it had. It had been easy, deciding to protect Gavin. When he’d figured out his own feelings, the easiest thing among everything else had been this course of action.

Now, however, it wasn’t so easy. Even if he tried to lie to himself, he knew as much. He was not made for police work. The knowledge sat heavy within him, another weight besides all the others that reminded him of all the ways he was lacking. Whatever his success, he hated it. He hated…having to be alert, having to let his protocols destroy everything around him in an attempt of finding threats. He hated the noise of the siren, the hostile eyes of people, of the way his day sometimes was blank, his mind everywhere else than in his current duty.

Sometimes, he felt that he lived only whenever he was not working. He was himself only when he was not wearing the uniform.

_ As long as it wasn’t easy, as long as you feel bad about it, then you’re off the hook, isn’t that right? _

Nines stopped, pained. 

They did pain him, Emma’s words. Not only because they came from someone he cared for. There was something in those words that hit true, landing in the center of somewhere tender Nines didn’t know he had.

He wanted…

The sky, that had paled as he walked, was already turning golden at the edges when Nines realized where he was. 

A familiar street. The gap between two buildings that led to an alley. There was a cat, big and grumpy and one eyed, curled in a corner, looking at him with his one green eye. And there, leaning against the freezing metal of a fire escape, Gavin was looking up at the sky, as if waiting.

**2\. Tina (The Hungry Days) [[2]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FPLxRe4ho_A)  
**

The first day of the year, Tina woke up to the sound of voices.

It was not the TV. Even in her drowsy state she could still recognize Gavin’s voice. The other voice was also familiar, but because it was so god damned early and Gavin was an adult (and a _ cop _, for god’s sake) she did what she always did on her days of, which was to turn around on the bed and go back to sleep.

When she woke up again, it was to the smell of pancakes. With a pleased hum, Tina stretched in bed, and throwing over a jumper over her pajamas (because she always tended to run cold no matter the weather) she left the bedroom.

The living room was bright when she entered. For a moment, she owlishly blinked as her eyes adjusted to the light, and then blinked again when she caught sight of the tall person standing in the far end of the kitchen in front of the stove.

“Nope,” she mumbled, going straight for the pot of coffee, making grabby hands when Gavin very helpfully poured her a mug.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he teased, all cheerful and bright like he had a great night’s rest.

“Fuck off,” she answered, and sighed as she finally registered the blissfully bitter taste of the coffee.

“Good morning, officer Chen,” the android greeted as well, which prompted Tina to finish her coffee in one long drag and hold it again towards Gavin, who wordlessly refilled it. Nines’ expression was serene as he placed a plate of fluffy pancakes in front of her in a graceful and confident movement, like he had done so a million times. “Gavin said I should bring you pancakes as offering,” he added, his LED twinkling merrily on his temple.

In answer, Tina just hummed. The pancakes were already covered in butter and drizzled generously in maple syrup, which was a Gavin maneuver that Tina was not too sleepy not to recognize. Still, she didn’t care. She dug into her breakfast with gusto, ignoring her friend’s chuckle in favor of enjoying her food, giving her brain time to catch up with the fact that she was supposed to be awake and fully functional.

She was halfway her third cup of coffee when her mind finally cleared. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in zombie mode, but it mustn’t have been that long because when she felt ready to face the world, Nines and Gavin were still on the kitchen. The android was pouring into a pan the last of what it looked like an impressive bowl of batter. Next to him, Gavin was supervising, alert in that overbearing way he had when he taught someone to cook.

Tina blinked, irrationally taken aback by the sight in front of her. 

Since Nines had first found his way into Gavin’s conversation, Tina had not been able to deny her curiosity. At first, simply because although Gavin was a very perceptive man, it was strange that someone caught his attention like this. And then...well, after the mess in the DPD, Tina would be lying if she had not wanted to punch the android. She’d known they had talked it out because Gavin had told her so, and although of course she was supportive of Gavin’s decisions, she couldn't help but mistrust the android.

Plainly told, she didn’t like him. She’d seen him at the DPD, and as a cop, there was something about him she didn’t trust. It didn’t help that the rumor mill told of the way he had frozen up when faced with an armed murderer. A partner that reacted to panic by freezing was something no sane cop ever wanted.

And yet…

Tina tried to dismiss all of that in favor to judge the android fairly.

At the other end of the kitchen, Nines and Gavin were so completely immersed in their little world that it was like Tina wasn’t there. So, of course, she took the opportunity to watch them, unobserved.

She watched Nines first, taking note of his controlled, efficient movements. His expression, too, unnerved her. His face was as blank as a mask, completely devoid of emotion, and it greatly unsettled Tina that she couldn’t tell what he felt for Gavin just by looking at him.

Except that was not quite right.

There were his eyes. Although it was evident he was minding the last two pancakes, it was also cloyingly obvious that his attention was completely on Gavin. His eyes were only on him, drinking him in, following him whenever Gavin stepped away to do something or other. It was a silent form of adoration that surprised Tina in its intensity, soothed something within herself that had been coiled tightly, ready to strike, protect, _ defend _.

But Gavin. It was the sight of Gavin that made Tina stop in her tracks. 

By Nines’ side, Gavin was almost glowing under the attention. He was all soft, shy smiles, completely relaxed in his pajamas, eyes dancing as he chuckled at whatever it was Nines was telling him. 

Gavin’s touches, whenever he was talking or instructing Nines to do something, were soft. He touched Nines so gently, with such a delicate tenderness that Tina felt her throat constrict, swallowing against emotion.

He touched Nines like the android was frail.

Like he was precious.

Tina had seen Gavin in love before. She’d seen him in a relationship that had ended badly, with someone he’d been deeply in love with. She’d been there for him when he’d been hopelessly half-in love with someone else after that. In the years that followed, Gavin had had several attempts of relationships, but never like this. Gavin had not looked at any of those men like they lit the room, like there was no one else that mattered in the world.

She felt the knot in her throat rise up. For a moment, she was overwhelmed by emotion. Love, of course, and tenderness. Pride, because better than anyone she knew how much courage it had taken Gavin to dare to love someone like this again. A bit of loss too, perhaps, because she was human and this meant that things would, inevitably, change. And underneath it all, a relief so vast that made her want to both laugh and cry.

Well then. Perhaps it was time to get to know Nines after all, if only for Gavin’s sake. Maybe change, this time, would be a good thing, like opening a window to let fresh air come in.

That was the reason she none-too-discreetly followed Gavin into his room when he finally went in to change clothes.

“Is he joining us today?” she asked, forgoing any pretence because Tina had never been one to beat around the bush. 

They had a tradition.

It was a dumb thing, not even a celebration. Tina barely remembered how it had begun. Something about letting go. But since they had been young, when they’d still lived together, poor as rats, they’d spent the first day of the year, together, cleaning.

Strange, perhaps, but it was theirs. When Tina moved out they’d carried on the tradition by doing two cleaning days, one during the last week of December and alternating whose place they did on the new year.

It had been, like plenty of other things in their relationship, an unspoken thing. However, it had endured the years, and relationships that came and went, weathered good and bad times. Always the two of them.

It was an important tradition for Tina, part of the time and history he shared with Gavin, and it was obvious how important it was to him as well when he flinched at her question, not even trying to cover his reaction.

“I was not going to ask him to stay,” he answered, completely serious and earnest, and that was why she loved him, for the care he put in taking care of the few people he loved.

“Perhaps you should,” she whispered, desperately trying to keep her voice steady and only half-succeeding.

Gavin was at her side immediately. “Teeny, no…”

“Do you want to?” she forced out. More than him, it was her own feelings that she was facing, because although she knew there was no reason for it, still she felt she was losing something by encouraging Gavin to give this piece of them away. However, she was proved correct when he dropped his eyes, his hand going to his neck to play with that awful St Christopher’s necklace he always wore, the gesture a dead tell of when he was unsettled. “Gav…” Tina told him, softly. In the semi darkness of the bedroom, their low voices felt intimate, but also protected in the cocoon of their friendship. “It’s just cleaning. Cleaning goes faster with more people.”

She offered him a watery smile, and she didn’t know what he saw in her expression because a strong emotion crossed his face and he leaned to press a kiss to her temple.

“Are you sure? It’s always been you and me,” he commented, cautious and soft.

“Yeah,” Tina agreed, and the truth was that she did mind. She minded, because this was her time with Gavin and things hadn’t changed for a long time. “I think...perhaps it can’t always be just the two of us,” and when she said it, she was thinking about herself too. They’d only had each other for a long time, but maybe it wouldn’t be so for long, and that was okay. Maybe the circle could get bigger once more. 

Maybe next year they may have two androids join them, a new tradition of sorts.

“You’re far stronger than I am,” Gavin told her, voice frail. “Teeny-tiny.”

Tina laughed, a breathless, shaky sound, and punched Gavin’s arm playfully to distract him from the way she wiped the corner of her eyes. “I am,” she informed him, fierce. “And if he makes you cry again I’m going to destroy him.”

Gavin laughed then too. “You’re gonna freeze all his underwear into a lamp post?”

“That was benevolent of me, to be honest,” Tina conceded, grinning at the memory. “Also, I don’t think androids need underwear, but rest assured I’ll find something as devastating.”

“Love you, Teeny,” Gavin informed her, thumbs gently rubbing away the last of the wetness under her eyes. “Now please fuck off because this was a fucking ambush and I only wanted to change in peace.”

“Sure,” Tina agreed, easily. In an agile move, she slid out of Gavin’s arms and made sure her hand was on the door’s handle before she said over her shoulder, “I’m going to go to the living room and tell your android all of your most embarrassing stories.” 

“Don’t you fucking--!” Gavin yelled, before Tina slammed the door after her.

She took a minute to calm down, hiding her smile with her two cupped hands over her mouth. She felt raw, but happy too, and for a long moment she simply stood there, enjoying the feeling of her bond with Gavin. 

Then, feeling lighter, she stepped into the living room.

*

When Tina closed the second door behind her, Nines had migrated to the couch.

He looked at home there, comfortably sitting in a relaxed way Tina had never seen of him, but what surprised her the most was that he had, for all intents and purposes, a lapful of cats.

Tina stared. 

Not at Fliss. Gavin’s calico was a spoiled little thing, polite like a lady, and also the friendliest and most fearless cat she’d ever met. Tina was not much a cat person, but she respected the fluff ball because she knew the cat took as much care of Gavin as Gavin took care of her.

The other cat though, that one was really something.

Huge and fierce, Tina had never understood why Gavin allowed him inside. #9, as Gavin had named him in a dumb attempt not to get attached, was feral. That cat didn’t like anyone, didn’t allow himself to be touched, came and went as it pleased, and always stared intensely at Tina with his one eye whenever Gavin couldn’t feed the strays for one reason or another.

That was the cat that was currently curled in Nines’ lap, loudly purring his heart out as if he were a kitten and not, well, the little monster he looked like.

“Officer Chen…” Nines began, looking up from his lap, and it was funny that he had both hands in the air as if he didn’t know if he could pet the cat or not. 

Tina smiled. She didn’t blame him.

“Okay, none of that crap,” she informed him. “We’re not at work, so there’s no way I’ll respond to you calling me anything other than Tina.”

“Tina,” the android repeated, testing the name. He bowed his head a little, as if thanking Tina for the liberty, and well, wasn’t he charming. “I was about to get going. I don’t mean to intrude on you and Gavin, but well…” he finished, gesturing towards his lap.

“You were held hostage, huh?” she grinned, amused at his helplessness. On his right, Fliss was resting her head on his knee, further immobilizing him. 

Silently, Tina thanked the rascals.

“You busy? You’re welcome to stay if you want. Not that we’re doing anything interesting. It’s just a cleaning day for us, so I wouldn’t blame you if you bailed.”

Nines blinked, tilting his head a little as he thought. On his temple, his LED wirled quickly, blinking yellow, and okay no, he _ was _ creepy after all.

“I’d like to,” he confessed. “But I don’t know if Gavin…”

“Don’t you worry about him. We already had a chat,” she waved him off. He nodded, but instead of standing up he looked down and then up again at Tina, obviously at a loss of what to do.

Tina chuckled quietly. Figures the murder bot was the kind of person that couldn’t disturb a sleeping cat. Gavin was like that too.

Luckily, she was not.

“Fliss, treats,” she called, and the cat immediately raised her head, ears twitching but too smart not to move without proof. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she sighed, moving close to Nines and waving her hands towards the cats. “Shoo, you fluffbutts. Go sleep somewhere else. Shoo!”

Reluctantly, Fliss stood up, stiffly moving towards her bed in the corner, showing Tina her butt to make her know what she thought of her antics. With her departure, #9 raised his dark head as well, looking at Fliss longingly before jumping off Nines’s lap to follow.

Tina watched them go, promising herself to sneak them some treats in secret, before turning her attention back to Nines, who was watching her with an alert sort of eagerness, like a dog waiting for orders. “Alright!” Tina clapped. “That solved, we usually do kitchen first, vacuuming last.”

When Gavin came out from his room, wearing old pants and a ratty t-shirt that read _ I don’t really wanna do the work today _ \--which Tina rolled her eyes at; he probably thought himself so _ clever _\-- she and Nines had already done a good chunk of the kitchen. Gavin regarded them with an unreadable expression before Tina shoved a feather duster in his nose. “And put on some music!” she ordered, and with a shrug, he obeyed and went to work at the bookcases, removing the books and knick knacks to clean thoroughly.

The first dumb song helped Tina relax, the familiarity of doing a lot to help her navigate the tension and the awkwardness of having another person with them. Gavin, too, was quieter than usual, shy, only humming under his breath as he worked and not yelling lyrics as he tended to do, both of them trying to figure out how to integrate Nines to their yearly ritual. 

However, Tina shouldn’t have worried. At the third song, Nines stopped, halfway to emptying a cupboard to clean it, and once again tilted his head, frowning slightly as if deep in thought. It took Tina a couple of seconds to realize he was listening to the lyrics of the song playing in the background.

“What is, Nines?” she grinned, making Gavin look up from the other side of the room. “Not a fan of the Backstreet Boys?”

“This is my first time listening to this song,” Nines informed them, and for the first time, Tina could read an emotion in his impassive face: consternation. “I find it pleasing, but...is there a reason why Gavin is adding a line at the choir? I don’t recall a number five in any place in the song.”

There was a beat of silence in which Tina’s grin only grew, delighted. 

“Oh, _ man _,” Gavin said before he started to talk over Tina, both of them tripping over each other to explain to Nines about old TV shows and parodies, and silly songs. 

And like that, the tense awkwardness ended. As they worked, Tina and Gavin kept trying to one up each other about who liked the worst song, singing and giving justifications and explanations to Nines as if he were the ultimate authority in all things music. It was nice, in a strange sort of way, and Tina found it hilarious that Nines was so grave as he considered each song, listening with the same impartial seriousness no matter if they played for him The Coconut Song or Disney.

It was already afternoon when they stopped to take a break for lunch. The living room and the kitchen were spotless, so the humans threw together a couple of sandwiches and Nines sipped from a bag of thirium Gavin had apparently had the foresight to buy (Tina elbowed him in the ribs when Nines was not looking and Gavin turned away, ears red). That done, they divided tasks, Gavin going into his bedroom to clean the bathroom and Tina motioning Nines to follow her deeper into the flat.

The way Gavin’s flat was designed was odd, or so had Tina always thought. In truth it had two bedrooms, the master bedroom with a small attached bathroom and another, smaller room that Gavin meant to use as a study but never really used. The weird part came from the door that cut off the two parts of the flat: instead of being able to peer down a small hallway from the living room, a door stood in the way of it, as if clearly dividing the “public” area, the living room, from the private ones, the bedrooms. 

Gavin always kept the door to the bedrooms closed, and maybe that was why Nines looked around when he was led inside, probably never having seen the rest of the layout of the flat.

“Welcome to the inner sanctum,” Tina half joked, guiding the android past the still closed door to Gavin’s bedroom --too soon for that, Tina figured-- and towards the end of the hall and into the spare room. It was dark, the blinds pulled down, and half empty, with only an unused couch, a guitar in the corner, and a desk piled up with papers. 

With the confidence of someone who knows where things are, Tina pulled the closet open, craning her neck to peer at the highest shelf, where some boxes and bags were haphazardly piled up.

“Thank god you’re tall, I always have trouble reaching the back of the closet.” She pointed to a transparent bag half hidden in the back. “Do you think you can reach the one with the green sheets?” she asked Nines, because her next task was to do some laundry.

In hindsight, Tina should have known it was a bad idea.

Nines was tall, and to his credit, he tried to be careful. However, neither of them counted on Gavin’s lazily piled up boxes. When the android tried to extract the required bag, he pulled with enough force to send a green shoebox crashing into the floor, followed by a small avalanche of plastic bags that contained god knew what.

“Shit,” Tina cursed, jumping back as not to be hit. Some of the contents of the bags were less mysterious now that they were spilled into the floor. Some of it was old ornaments, Christmas and Halloween's mixed up, things that were unsafe for Fliss but Gavin had kept for some reason. Some others, however, were from the academy, judging by the logos on the stationary that covered the floor.

“Tina, are you okay?” Nines asked, looking at her, and Tina saw the exact moment his eyes fixated on something behind her because his LED, that had been whirling a calm blue, went red for a second.

Curious, Tina looked behind her too, and her heart almost stopped in her chest at what she saw.

The green shoebox had opened when it fell, and scattered across the floor were papers and photographs Tina didn’t think she’d see again.

A picture of three people, a man with brown eyes holding Tina under one arm and Gavin under the other.

The same man and Gavin, both looking dashing in the formal wear they had worn to a friend’s wedding.

Steve.

It hurt her to see him too, especially like this, because he had been her friend as well, a long time ago.

The three musketeers.

_ Fuck _.

With a grimace, Tina kneeled to pick up the contents of the shoe box, cards and notes and other things, her heart twisting at the thought Gavin had kept all of this stuff.

She inwardly cringed when Nines kneeled beside her, but thankfully she was spared awkward questions when the android’s hand went to pick up a photo of young Gavin and Hank, taken the day Gavin had been made detective. Of course Nines would be interested in Hank rather in some unknown man.

As swiftly as she could, Tina put everything back in the box, carefully folding in a bunch of shapeless children’s drawings signed with a shaky CA, heart aching at the thought of all the hurts Gavin had hidden in this unassuming box.

Silently, she held a hand towards Nines.

“This picture…” he commented, dutifully giving it to Tina. “I thought Hank and Gavin weren’t on speaking terms.”

“They aren’t.” She answered, curtly, and then, when she saw Nines’ LED change to amber, she added, “But it’s not my place to tell you about it.”

After a tense second, Nines nodded, conceding the point.

In silence he handed her a few more stray pieces of paper, and, finally, Tina smiled when she received one of them.

“But I can tell you the story of this one,” she grinned, and held up an old circle of paper that had once been the lid of an instant noodle soup cup.

**3\. Gavin (Somewhere in my memory)**

When Gavin finally finished scrubbing the shower, he threw the brush into the bucket of soap he had beside him and groaned.

He stumbled a little when he stood from the crouch he’d been in. He had not been in that position for _ that _ long, but still his knees hurt and his back popped, a reminder he indeed was closer to forty than thirty. 

_ Fuck_, his body really went on strike sometimes.

Still, when he looked around him, he was pleased. The bathroom was spotless. It wasn’t that he didn’t clean it regularly, because although he wasn’t a clean freak, he disliked places that were too dirty. Having his living space reasonably orderly and clean kept bad memories at bay, assured that he didn’t have to think about the bad parts of his childhood.

There was a strange satisfaction, too, in seeing everything so clean. Like the space became bigger, brighter. Silently, Gavin congratulated himself for a job well done and finally left the bathroom. If things were going as they should, they only needed to change the bed sheets, vacuum, and they would be set for another year.

Gavin’s sock clad feet didn’t make any noise when he stepped into the small carpeted hallway that connects the two bedrooms. He stopped for a moment, listening for Tina and Nines’ voices in the flat.

To say Gavin had been surprised to see Nines earlier that morning was an understatement. 

As if the year had finally caught up to him, he’d been exhausted, and after their modest dinner, he’d fallen asleep on the couch, lulled by the sound of the TV, Fliss gentle purring, and Tina’s safe presence.

She must have covered him at some point, because he was warm when he woke up, Fliss a soothing weight on his chest. Around him, the flat had been dark and silent, and although he was comfortable, he also felt alert in that pleasing way that meant that he had actually managed to get some rest for once.

The first day of the year.

His mind had been blissfully empty as he wandered into the kitchen. It was rare that Gavin felt free of stress or self-recrimination, so he cherished the gift his body was giving him and made himself some tea, not ready to renounce his peaceful mood in favor of caffeine. 

In a whim, he’d peered outside. The sky was already silver in the corners, the night giving way to the day, and Gavin bundled up before grabbing his cup of tea and leaving the flat through the window, using the fire escape as his own private balcony as he often did when he wanted to think.

The morning air was almost painful against his cheeks, but Gavin hadn’t minded at all. He sipped his tea slowly, enjoying the rush of warmth, and simply allowed himself to exist. There had been something about that morning, because it was like cold sharpened the edges of his soul too, as if he was part of the clear sky, transparent and beautiful.

Without reason, he thought of Nines. Looking at the sky, he smiled as he wondered what the android was doing, how had he spent the New Year, if he was happy.

That was why he’d been so surprised to look down and find the subject of his thoughts walking down the street, his beautiful blue eyes fixed on Gavin.

Even now, Gavin’s heart beat fast at the memory, the blush that he had blamed on the cold threatening to return to his face.

It unsettled Gavin, the intensity of the things he felt for Nines. It was too much, the feelings overwhelming him in a way that made him panic. So, as he did of late when it came to Nines, he just stopped thinking about it.

Tina’s voice floated to him then, and Gavin walked towards the end of the hallway, stopping when he recognized the story she was telling Nines.

Unbidden, he smiled, listening for a moment without being seen. For some reason, Tina was recounting the time she had gotten into a fight and won some dumb coupons for a raffle in which they had won a year supply of instant ramen.

The Hungry Days, they’d called those days. Not because they’d been hungry, although the’d sometimes had been. They’d been young, and alone, and hunger came in many different forms.

Well, maybe not alone, Gavin corrected himself. It humbled him, whenever he thought about that angry, hurt person he’d been, and how he wished he could tell himself what the girl with the fierce eyes would become to him, how she was the warm family he’d always longed for, found in the most unexpected place in the most unconventional way.

With a shiver, he shook away such emotional thoughts. He blamed Tina for putting him in such a sentimental mood. But then again, she had always been far braver and stronger than he was.

“What’s with the dumb story?” he asked, walking into the room. Nines and Tina were sitting on the floor amidst the contents of the upper shelf of his closet, Nines with his LED stuck in blue as he raptly listened to Tina and Tina spinning the tale as wild as possible for her captive audience. Gavin rolled his eyes. “Slacking off too, I see.”

At his voice, Tina startled slightly, just a second of surprise before her expression morphed into a shit eating grin. “Well, if you want, I can tell Nines the story about the orange tree instead…”

“Absolutely not,” Gavin cut her off, feeling his face heat up. They didn’t talk about the orange tree in this house. And then, when Tina dissolve into laughter, something wonderful occurred to him. “Unless you want me telling Polly how exactly the fiasco with the tree started.”

That sobered her up.

“No fair,” she pouted, but her eyes were bright. It was a strange thing, the realization of this new way they could hold things over each other’s heads. Hopefully.

_ Not yet _, he reminded himself, swallowing down hopes. It was still too soon to tell.

“I liked the story,” Nines intervened then, and Gavin chuckled because of course he had. “I found it fascinating. I’d love to know more about your past, if you’re amenable.”

Tina got off the floor, cleaning her hands in the jumper she was wearing. She was smiling, but for once, she said nothing.

“...sure,” Gavin conceded at long last, strangely embarrassed and more so when Nines beamed at him, his LED blinking in the way that meant he was happy, and _ fuck _. Gavin looked away. He really needed to get a hold of himself because he couldn’t keep feeling like he’d melt into the floor from a smile that wasn’t even there. “Okay,” he cleared his throat. “We need to get back to work ‘cause I’m sick of this and unlike some people I do have an evening shift.”

Just as Gavin predicted, after everything else they had done, vacuuming and changing the bed sheets were the quickest and easiest tasks. He left Tina and Nines to finish the living room so he could take care of the bedrooms, and when he finished and closed the door behind him again, the two of them had finished too. Tina was digging to the cupboards to find a snack and Nines was just standing in the middle of the room apparently deeply concentrated in listening a random Christmas song that had made it to their cleaning playlist.

_ Somewhere in my memory _

_ Christmas joys all around me _

_ living in my memory _

_ all of the music _

_ all of the magic _

_ all the family home here with me. [[3]](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5kHH6LJpEbQ)  
_

Ah, yes. Gavin had always liked that song.

Smiling, he went towards Nines. “Tina always listens to Christmas music until the last possible second, sometimes even when it’s not December,” he complained, but stopped when he caught sight of Nines’ face.

Later on, Gavin would not known what it had been, because Nines’ expression was as blank as usual. However, the second Gavin saw him he knew something was wrong, because although the ambering fluttering LED could be considered normal for him, Gavin could have sworn he read something unusual on Nines’ face.

Consternation.

“Hey…” Gavin began raising a hand to touch Nines’ shoulder, but stopped when Nines blinked and the song looped again.

From the corner of his eyes, Gavin saw Tina look up from her box of cookies.

“Memories…” Nines mumbled after the lyrics. There was a sort of wistfulness in his voice as he said it, a powerful longing, and it wasn’t until he played the song for a third time, that Gavin realized, with shock, that androids didn’t have any memories of their childhood.

Gavin stood there, frozen, for a long time. Then he looked at Tina, and she was already staring at him, looking as stunned as Gavin felt. 

Gavin’s childhood had been far from perfect, but still he had his own happy memories. Memories of carefree days, of a place he felt safe to return to, a few precious people he never doubted would take care of him as a child.

What would it be, he wondered, to be born into a world not having any of those? Of being thrown into a world no one told you how to navigate, with no one to care for you when you felt lost and confused? 

Jesus, Nines had once told him, in the fire escape a long time ago, that he had awoken in a _ lab _. He’d been born in an awful sterile room and then locked up for god knows how long.

The thought of Nines, with his strength and soft eyes and gentle hands, being born in such hard conditions, with no one to hold him or tell him a kind word made something freeze in Gavin’s stomach. Something heavy and ugly that twisted inside him like a knife, because out of everyone in the world, Nines deserved warmth and kindness, not...

Fisting his hands, Gavin breathed in slowly, discreetly.

He’d known, in an abstract, distant way, that Nines was young. And now, faced with what that truly meant, he let protectiveness well up, strong and violent like a fire, until it overwhelmed all the other more complicated feelings.

“Let’s make some gingerbread,” Gavin blurted out. “There’s no fucking law against not being able eat gingerbread whenever we want to.”

“Let’s put on a movie too,” Tina added. “A TV show.”

Gently, Gavin held Nines’ hand. He was an android, but his fingers were shaking, overtaken by some strong emotion, and Gavin cupped Nines’ large hand between his and took it to his own chest, cradling it against his faded t-shirt like a little wounded bird, like it was Nines’ heart he wanted to protect.

“Memories can be created all the time,” he told him, gutted to see Nines’ eyes widen and then soften with gratefulness. 

_Everything_, he swore to himself, savagely.

He had an evening shift, and for the first time in five years he called Fowler to tell him he couldn’t make it. Instead, he taught Nines how to make gingerbread, and although the android couldn’t actually eat it, the delight he took in the smell and in the process was obvious.

_Everything_, he promised again, watching Nines and Tina decorating the gingerbread. He was already making plans in his head, of places he wanted to take Nines, of things he wanted to show him.

And as he laughed at Nines’ incredibly ugly android ginger man, he finally came to terms with his feelings; stopped telling himself that what he felt for Nines was a crush, or merely attraction. He could barely even think the word. And yet, with a certainty that he felt down to his bones, he knew two things: that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Nines, and that he was hoplessly in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I made Gavin have a deep realization moment in an interlude. I'm sorry I'm not sorry.


	7. The Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huh...remember this fic is tagged as depressed gavin reed? there was a reason for that. *shifty eyes*

The halls of the art gallery were white and immaculate, their heavy silence only broken by the echoey sound of footsteps and low, hushed voices.

As silently as he could, Gavin followed Nines, half-seriously wondering what had possessed him to take the android to such a place. Museums had always unnerved him. Not only because of the silence; art had never really been his thing. He was more of a music kind of person, dancing --even ballet-- doing more to keep his attention than paintings ever did. He’d only been to art galleries a handful of times, once or twice when he was at school and a couple of disastrous dates afterwards, and he had always come away with the impression that art museums were boring.

Except, the thought, looking at Nines, not really.

He first had the idea a couple of weeks ago. After the acceptance of his feelings on New Year, he had put much thought into which places Nines would enjoy. After some research and planning —which he admittedly enjoyed, even though Fliss disliked not having every scrap of his attention to herself— he’d settled into a small, modest bar that played live music.

There had been snow in the ground that day, for it had been early January, and the bar had had this rugged, modern appearance most independent venues often had. However, the naked brick on the walls was pleasing to the eye, and it was cozy, and it paid off to see Nines curiously peering around, almost vibrating in excitement at the prospect of live music.

The band had been small, and honestly Gavin had not expected them to be as good as they were. They played jazz, which he was fond of, but Nines— Nines zeroed in into the performance, listening with an intensity that bordered in devotion, and Gavin had felt his heart swell with adoration. Nines listened like he was breathing, taking everything in and savoring it, eyes bright and LED shining in his temple. 

Nines had taken a breath when the song ended, as if to return to the present, and his LED had fluttered once like a butterfly, the light bright in the half-darkness of the bar. He’d been lovely at that moment, and although they weren’t sitting close together Gavin had felt his face flush at Nines’ mere presence, heart hammering in his chest. 

“Oscar Peterson,” Nines informed him, so suddenly that Gavin almost flinched. “Such a beautiful song. I did a quick search and apparently this song is an arrangement of sorts of Franz Liszt’s Liebestraum. Although it was logical that music genres should influence each other, I didn’t expect it to be like this,” he explained, and then a new song had begun and Nines’ attention had been entirely back into the music.

So because Gavin had been closely watching Nines, he’d noticed the way the android’s eyes had lingered on the art on the walls of the bar after the band’s presentation was over. And of course Gavin had come to the correct conclusion that Nines, who appeared to have such affinity for the arts, might appreciate paintings as well.

The Van Gogh exhibition at the Detroit Institute of Arts had been a stroke of inspiration. Gavin had been walking back to his car after interrogating a witness when he saw the colorful pamphlet attached to a lamp post. It was meant to be a temporary exhibition, and Gavin, who knew nothing about art, took one look at it and knew Nines would love it.

“The trees depict the circle of life,” Nines informed him in a hushed voice, secretive voice. He was engrossed in a series of paintings of olive trees, religiously narrating to Gavin every single thing that appeared in the guide book he had downloaded from the museum’s archives. 

This was a new side of Nines Gavin had just had the pleasure of experience, for the android had taken one look at the first painting and immediately downloaded the guide book. He seemed to take great joy in giving Gavin all the possible details imaginable about each painting, which made their way through the gallery painfully slow, and although by all means it should have been boring as fuck --Gavin didn’t much care for visual arts after all-- it wasn’t. 

There was something strangely adorable about the awe in which Nines looked at every single painting, in the passionate way he narrated every single thing to Gavin like Gavin was the one that found everything fascinating. It was dorky, and endearing as hell, and if Gavin listened with rapt attention it was because there was obvious joy in Nines’ voice, as if sharing this with Gavin made him happy, and Gavin would listen until Nines could talk no more.

“It is said that Van Gogh found respite and relief in nature. Gavin, isn’t it interesting? When he painted this series, he was subject to illness and emotional turmoil, yet the paintings are considered to be among his finest works.”

Gavin froze, his eyes pulled back to the deep greens of the painting before he could stop himself.

He had heard, someplace, that Van Gogh had been depressed. Even though he didn’t understand anything about art, Gavin thought that he could see it, too, a bit of darkness hidden in the bright fields, a stroke of madness in the trees, in the way everything twisted and turned as if it would consume itself. Like it was fire.

And yet…

As he looked at the painting, that had not been what struck Gavin first. The first thing that he’d noticed, from the very first painting, had been the strange sort of joy that they seemed to convey, the vibrant colors, the intensity of the strokes, as if that had been the man’s adamant way to express what he found beautiful in the world, against all odds.

“It must have been difficult to paint something so beautiful in such dark times,” Nines kept going, voice dripping amazement, before he turned to Gavin. “What do you think?”

Gavin didn’t blink, having expected the question.

Nines always asked that-- after the modest concert in the bar, after the other, bigger concert Gavin had taken Nines to. He always absorbed everything like a sponge, delighted in it, and turned towards Gavin to ask, _ what do you think? _

Like he cared about Gavin’s opinion. 

Like he was glad it was _ Gavin _ that was there with him.

There was a voice inside Gavin’s head.

Sometimes it was quiet. It could be silent for weeks, months at a time, years when he had thought he’d been happy. 

It always whispered the same thing into his ear, sometimes so softly he didn’t know he’d heard it until something on his chest grew cold, ice like tendrils freezing his inside with a feeling very similar to fear.

Sometimes he could ignore it. Through all of his life he’d found ways to live with it, found that bravado and loud voices could make it appear like he couldn’t hear it. Like he wasn’t broken.

Gavin grinned. “Eh, it’s pretty I guess,” he answered, his face a perfect mask before he patted Nines on the shoulder and walked to the next painting.

It took them a couple of hours to walk through the exhibition, and when they left, Nines’ LED was over the place and he looked sort of dazzled. Outside, the weather was cold but the sky was clear, for it was the end of January, and they both walked down the street side to side, Gavin wearing his winter jacket and Nines bundled up in that ridiculous pink cat scarf that he seemed to love so much.

Nines kept an enthusiastic stream of chatter as they walked, and Gavin smiled softly, allowing himself to engrave the moment into his mind.

Nines was beautiful.

Not only in a physical way, because one would have to be blind not to notice he was gorgeous. It was the way in which he experienced the world, the deep sense of wonder he felt for every new thing around him, that made a fierce protectiveness rise within Gavin. The need to make Nines happy, to always see him like this, relaxed and soft and safe.

So even if the voice kept whispering into his ear, Gavin took Nines out again, and again after that, watching with soft eyes as Nines discovered the good things the world had to offer. It made him oddly happy to see Nines worked up about the smallest thing, his boundless curiosity making him chat with people Gavin would never have noticed.

And god, Gavin loved him.

He loved him as he thought, severe and serious in his concentration. He loved him when he talked, eyes animated even when his face showed nothing. He loved him when he smiled, his blue LED delicately fluttering on his temple like the wings of a butterfly.

Gavin loved him in a way that scared him sometimes, enough to keep him awake at night, pacing his living room and endlessly arguing with the voice, trying to convince himself he could be happy even though he knew how little did he deserve Nines.

Because he didn’t deserve him. He didn’t deserve his kindness, his sweet voice, the respectful way the android would treat Gavin's personal space, like he didn’t want to pressure him --_ him! _\-- into anything. True to his word, Nines was apparently determined that they go slow, and Gavin often got flustered because of that consideration alone.

So as to reach a truce with the voice, after their first date in the winter market, Gavin didn’t touch Nines again. He just couldn’t. Casual touches were okay, and Gavin, suddenly hypersensitive to all of his interactions with Nines, was aware of how much those increased. Brushed fingers, hands on arms, pats on the shoulder. He had never fooled himself into thinking he didn’t enjoy physical contact, for he always had, and yet holding Nines’ hand again --or god forbid, _ hugging him _\-- was a boundary he absolutely couldn’t make himself to cross even when it became obvious to him how touch starved Nines was.

And Nines _ was _ touched starved. It showed in the way his body would turn towards Gavin whenever they were together, in the way he would prolong the small touches, in how Nines’ hands would sometimes make aborted motions to reach for him. 

It killed Gavin every time he noticed, killed him that Nines was so respectful of his boundaries, because for the life of him he couldn’t make himself bridge that gap. It was something that was in his power to give, and the fact that he couldn’t, made an ugly guilt twist in his gut, a crippling sense of inadequacy that came with a deeply rooted fear that made him want to cry sometimes.

Inside his head, the voice whispered.

* * *

One of the things Gavin had always done to survive was to pretend he was an idiot.

Not that he was fucking Einstein, _ mind _, but since he’d been very young he’d learn that it paid off when other people underestimated you, that it was harder for others to hurt you if they didn’t have an accurate assesement of who you were.

At work, this was also more or less true. Although there were few people that thought Gavin a complete idiot, they’d fallen for other things-- the bravado, the nastiness-- things that Gavin definitely was but played up to make others forget he also had a brain, eyes and ears and knew how to use them.

Gavin was perceptive. When he’d been a child it had always been an issue how many things he noticed, how those things affected him, how often he _ cried _. 

A weakness, but one he had learnt to use in his favor afterwards.

That’s what made him a good detective.

That was also why he had been unable not to notice Nines’ transformation when he was at the DPD.

It baffled him how no one noticed. 

He figured it might be normal for Miller, who didn’t know Nines much, or even Fowler, who was not in daily contact with the android. Connor, however, had no excuse. At work he interacted with Nines like everything was right in the world, like Nines’ back wasn’t so tense it seemed ready to snap, like his eyes weren’t dull and haunted, like his LED wasn’t an unnatural, still yellow or a forced muted blue.

He was a completely different person from the Nines that fed the cats with gentle hands --form the person who could talk about music about hours on end-- the change so radical that it weighed on Gavin, for surely it couldn’t be healthy.

Furthermore, Gavin was well aware of the fact that Nines had left the library and gone into the DPD for his sake --_ For you _, he’d written in his letter-- and that knowledge, too, settled on his chest like a rock, a heavy burden that made Gavin more anxious to make Nines happy in those precious hours they could get away from work.

However, despite Nines’ lifeless countenance at work, the rumor mill of the Detroit Police Department whispered about Nines’ accomplishments, his record good enough that he might be soon made detective like he apparently had asked Fowler from the beginning. 

All of these reasons, coupled with Gavin’s own feelings, made him try his utmost best to be supportive. The first time he’d noticed Nines returning to the precinct with dead, empty eyes, for all intents and purposes looking like a robot, Gavin had wrecked his brain thinking how to cheer him up without revealing their relationship to the whole DPD.

In the end, he settled for a small note and dumb drawing of a cat, something silly he hoped would make Nines smile. He surreptitiously slipped it into Nines’ files and proceeded to awkwardly pretend he didn’t care if Nines found it or not, feeling more stupid by the second.

Nines did find it. Gavin was at his desk, typing a report, when it happened. Nines went incredibly still, and like a ripple had gone through his body, his shoulders relaxed, his LED shining a little stronger blue in his temple.

Gavin had thanked all the gods in existence for Nines discretion, because when, a few minutes later, Nines went to his desk to hand him some files and thanked him with a brush of fingers and a heartfelt, whispered, “Thank you,” Gavin had to actually go hide in the break room to wait for his heart to calm down and his face to return to a normal shade of red.

So it was silly, and embarrassing, but after that, whenever he noticed Nines was having a bad day, and it was often, Gavin would do something small to cheer him up. A little note, a small paper flower, a dumb cat erraser Gavin had randomly seen and bought specifically for the purpose. Nines would never mention it afterwards, for they never talked about work in their time together, but once Gavin had caught him staring at one of Gavin’s notes outside an interrogation room, LED blinking red, and Gavin had been too much of a coward to walk up to him and hug him as he very obviously needed.

The voice had whispered for a full day after that, and Gavin had been in a terrible mood all through it.

However, despite Gavin keeping an eye on Nines at work, and fully knowing the extent of things a police officer was faced with on a daily basis, he had been truly unprepared for the day when Nines returned to the precinct covered in blood.

It had been a bad day everywhere. Gavin had just sat at his desk, exhausted after a long and awful interrogation, and was considering just closing his eyes and taking a nap while he waited for Pearson to return from her well deserved coffee break, when Nines and Miller walked into the office.

Gavin sat up, immediately alert. Although android police uniforms were also dark, Gavin had been on the force enough time to recognize the dark stains on Nines’ pale hands as blood.

“Fuck,” he swore to himself, two strong impulses pulling him in different directions. Nines’ stare was empty, and his LED was solid red, and he had never looked more like a killing machine than at that second, as he stood beside Miller’s desk stiffly, as if waiting for orders.

Gavin was a second away from standing and going to Nines, public be damned, when a sudden movement to his left and a yell almost made him jump out of his skin.

“Nines!” someone yelled, and Gavin felt a sour bitterness on his tongue when he recognized Hank’s voice. On instinct, his hand went to his neck, feeling the chain of the necklace that had warmed from the heat of his skin. “What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?”

Although he didn’t want to, he could stop himself from glancing towards the man’s desk, and when he did, it was only to meet the calculating stare of Connor.

It was quick. Hank was already walking towards Nines when Connor blinked, and with his heart pounding on his chest Gavin watched Connor stand up and follow.

Right.

Nines had never discussed Connor with him except in passing, when he told Gavin where he had spent Christmas and New Year’s, but Gavin was not dumb enough not to understand their affection and what they must mean to each other.

Fiercely, he wished it were true. Although he didn’t dare to ask, he wished that Hank and Connor were indeed Nines’ family, even though thinking about Hank and Connor together made an old hurt well up, a sour ugly feeling that ate at his stomach like acid.

Curling his hands into fists, Gavin focused on his breathing, grinding his teeth even as he averted his eyes and pretended Nines’ distress meant nothing to him. 

As he allowed Hank and Connor to take Nines away.

Inside his head, the voice whispered again, this time with glee, and Gavin didn’t go home that night, instead burying himself under all the work he could handle. 

* * *

However, after that, Nines didn’t get better. 

The days went by and Nines was often down, tense in a way all the paperwork in the world couldn’t make Gavin ignore. So, because while he could stand many things he had found that Nines being sad was the one thing in the world he couldn’t bear, after consulting Tina, he approached Nines after work.

“Hey, tin man!” he called, catching Nines just as he was leaving the precinct. At his voice, Nines stopped, a bit twitchy, and the way he turned towards Gavin was slow, like it took effort, like he was moving against a strong current. With concern, Gavin noticed that Nines’ hands were tightly curled into fists, something he had never seen him do before. “Nines...” he began, resting a hand on the android’s arm. He wanted to ask him if he was okay, but the answer was so obvious that Gavin bit his tongue. “You doing anything tonight?” he asked instead.

“Not particularly, detective,” Nines answered, and that made Gavin eyebrows raise. Nines was not looking at him, his blue eyes fixed at some point in the horizon, unseeing. He had not called Gavin detective for months. “The extent of my plans are to sit down with a book. I have finally received the physical copies of _ A Song of Ice and Fire _, although I have not yet read enough to form an opinion.”

“Oh, those are good, I’ve heard. The TV show was super popular when I was a teenager. Crappy ending though,” Gavin babbled, mind racing. This behaviour from Nines was new, and it made nothing but raise all the red flags in the world. “Do all your books even fit in your flat?” he asked to stall. “You must have a million. Why won’t you order the digital version or something?”

“I find the physical sensation of the paper and turning the pages very engaging,” Nines answered dutifully, and Gavin knew he’d chosen a good subject of conversation when Nines seemed a bit more lively as he elaborated, “It appeals to the senses, and thus it becomes more than just an intellectual pursuit.”

“Of course,” Gavin said, rolling his eyes to be dramatic, but secretly pleased with himself. “So anyway, if your books can wait, do you wanna come drinking with Tina and I?”

_ That _ managed to get a reaction. For the first time, Nines looked at Gavin. Although impassive, Gavin could sense his surprise, as if he’d been so deep in his mind that he’d not really noticed Gavin until that moment, which the man knew was probably not too far from the truth. 

“I cannot drink,” Nines blurted out, a tad petulant, and Gavin scoffed.

“No shit,” he bit out, because while he wanted to help, he was not about to allow Nines to wallow in self pity either. “I’m totally inviting you to something you can’t do just to witness you humiliated when you admit in front of _ Tina _ , who actually has an android girlfriend that will probably join us, that _ androids can’t drink _—”

“I would very much like to socialize with you, Gavin,” Nines told him, loudly talking over him. He sounded irritated, and Gavin grinned up at him, pleased by the show of temper, as rare as it was. After a second, Nines blinked and his LED went down from yellow to blue, his expression softening. “Thank you for inviting me,” he said in a more normal voice.

“Yeah, anytime.”

For a moment, Gavin coughed, strangely embarrassed without reason. Out of habit, he rubbed his neck to feel the silver of the chain around his neck, a nervous gesture he had never been able to get rid of.

“Ok, so,” he cleared his throat, avoiding Nines’ gaze. “Let’s go?”

* * *

The bar was loud but not too crowded, the music loud enough to beat pleasantly in Gavin’s body and low enough for people to be able to have a conversation without shouting.

It was not their usual place. This bar was way more modern than his and Tina’s usual haunts, but as their usual establishment seemed a bit unsure about its position on accepting androids among its usual clientele, both Tina and Gavin had accepted the need to relocate without hesitation.

Gavin felt pleasantly warm when he stood from their table in the corner to go get a second round. 

Despite all his vices, Gavin had never been one to drink a lot. Maybe that was the reason why he already felt dizzy with only one whisky. As he waited for their drinks --only for himself and Tina, as both androids had politely refused to drink anything, even though the place offered those novelty thirium cocktails-- Gavin leaned back against a wall, watching their table, where Tina was having what appeared to be a serious conversation with Nines.

Watching Tina and Nines interact still made something warm drip into his belly, a wonderfully honeyed feeling that enveloped him like a security blanket. With a soft smile, Gavin wondered if the novelty of watching two people he loved get along would ever wear off. He hoped it wouldn’t.

Because...Tina liked Nines. It was not like she had ever come between him and any potential partner, but her approval meant a lot to him, especially since the mess that had been his last relationship.

Polly, too, was a nice addition to their little group. The android was a tad old fashioned and achingly polite, but Gavin thought he had found a new pastime in watching Tina turn all shades of red whenever Polly directed her attention at her.

Relaxed and happy, Gavin grinned. Polly and Tina laughed at something Nines said, and Gavin blamed the alcohol for his sudden wish to go back and wrap his arms around Nines, to kiss his temple. However, under the table Nines was rubbing his hands against his trousers as if to erase a stain, as he had done all night, and Gavin was sharp enough to understand what it meant.

It sobered Gavin up, wondering whether or not Nines had talked to someone about what happened that day. With a pang of regret, he wished he was on good terms with Connor, if only because exchanging information with him would make helping Nines easier.

Instead, Gavin did the next best thing. Putting on his best cheerful persona, he returned with their drinks to their table, all sharp smiles and loud manners, as if making a lot of noise would scare Nines’ demons away.

“Oh my god, he’s too precious!” Tina squealed, turning to Gavin as she received her pint of beer from him. “Gavin, you have my blessing!”

Gavin choked on air and desperately hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

After that they bantered and talked, Tina and Gavin as loud as they got when they were letting off steam. The androids looked on, apparently amused by their human’s antics, and it wasn’t long until they too were engaged in conversation. Gavin, who had kept an eye on Nines all night, was relieved to notice a bit of the tension leaving Nines as he talked to Polly about her job, his curiosity coming though --if more subdued than usual-- as he interrogated her about it.

And it surely was the alcohol, but through the night Gavin found himself leaning into Nines more and more, foregoing personal space until they were pressed together from knee to shoulder. The hard line of Nines’ body was a welcome, reassuring sensation against his own, and he almost felt drunk because of it; made drunk by Nines’ presence and by the way his LED stuttered pink, a new color Gavin was sure meant he was blushing.

It was late when Nines walked Gavin to his door, despite it not being strictly necessary. Still, because Gavin was not asshole enough not to make sure Nines was completely fine, and also because the alcohol had made him braver, as he fumbled with his keys he turned up to Nines and asked, “You wanna come in? I don’t feel sleepy yet.”

Gavin hated the way Nines hesitated, his struggle clear in the way his LED illuminated the dark hallway in shifting colors. His hands twitched again, and yeah, there was no way in hell Gavin was letting him go home to have a melt down all alone. 

“Gavin, you are inebriated,” Nines said at last with some difficulty. He was very obviously holding himself back again, and suddenly Gavin found himself getting angry. 

At that moment, he was not sure who he was more angry with-- Nines and the way he was putting on a brave face for _ Gavin’s _ sake, or at himself, for being too much of a coward. However, in the end it didn’t matter. His anger was sharp and vibrant, burning everything on its path until his mind was quiet, because Nines needed someone, needed _ him _, and Gavin was damned if he was not going to give him what he needed.

“So? I can still talk, can’t I? I would never make a pass on you like this anyway. You deserve better than a drunken confession.” 

The words had already left Gavin’s mouth before he could stop himself, and cold panic gripped his insides at the implication. After that time at the café they had not talked again about feelings, or where they stood regarding each other, or labeled their relationship in any particular way. It was a conversation Gavin was not ready to have, and sure as fuck didn’t intend to start in these circumstances.

Hating himself for his stupidity, and his inability to keep his mouth shut, Gavin turned his back to Nines, gritting his teeth as he unlocked his door. “You know what, forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

Nines voice stopped him.

“Gavin,” he said, simply, and Gavin felt the fear like a hand on his throat. Slowly, he turned. There, in the hallway, Nines was staring at him. He was tall, and out of place, and maybe it was the shadows because he looked incredibly lost and uncertain. “I would love to keep you company for a while longer, if...if you’d like?”

Gavin breathed in, bracing himself against emotion. Because right then, in the darkened hallway, before the closed door to his apartment, Gavin had the desperate wish to kiss Nines, to kiss him and make him forget all doubts, make him feel loved.

And yet, as Gavin looked at him, he understood what a vile thing it would be to do so now, when Nines was upset and confused, in need of comfort that had to be detached from any romantic or sexual implication.

“Come on, tin man,” Gavin said, grateful when his voice came out soft if a bit uneven, frail like glass. “We never did watch the _ Lord of the Rings _ movies, did we?”

The flat was dark and quiet when Gavin opened the door. From up her cat tree, Fliss raised her head and chirped in welcome, too sleepy to come and greet either of them.

Gavin put the movie on. 

They sat together on the couch after taking off their shoes, and although Nines probably didn’t need the warmth, Gavin piled all the blankets over them until they were in a small cocoon of their own.

They were quiet as they watched, the room illuminated only by the light of the TV. And because Gavin was watching Nines and not the movie at all, he saw the moment the android reached a hand towards Gavin’s only to snatch it back at the last second, rubbing it frantically against his trousers.

And shit, _ shit _ , it was too much, Gavin felt too much, but Nines was a warm presence beside him, and he was _ here _, he had chosen to stay by his side, and he didn’t dare touch Gavin, and Gavin thought he might cry if he thought too much about it, so he didn’t. 

In his head, the voice was silent.

Tentatively, as if Nines’ would reject him, Gavin reached for Nines’ hand and laced their fingers together, his thumb gently stroking Nines’ smooth, perfect skin.

Nines trembled.

Slowly, gently as if not to spook him, Gavin shifted in the dark. He guided Nines’ head down, tucked his face into the crook of his neck, turning his body until he could shelter Nines’. The embrace was awkward because the angle was weird and Nines was too big, but Gavin hooked his chin on top of Nines’ head and embraced him, their clasped hands uncomfortable between them.

“I--I couldn’t--” Nines gasped, a small sound like a sob leaving him, and Gavin felt his heart break in a million pieces. He held Nines tighter, because he had heard what had happened from Miller. 

A call they had responded to too late.

Someone they couldn’t save.

It happened from time to time, but Gavin remembered the first time it happened to him, and how it had been Hank to hold him until he had been able to face the world again, a long time ago.

Hank.

It was not the time to think about such things, but still Gavin felt a sorrow he didn’t show, eyes bright from his own memories and Nines’ own pain.

He’d do for Nines what Hank had done for him many years ago, when both of them were happy and whole and the future was bright and unclouded by any misery.

“It’s okay,” Gavin mumbled into Nines’ hair. “It was not your fault. You did all you could. It’s okay,” and then, because the lie sat bitter on his tongue. “It _ will _ be okay.”

That night was long, but through it all, Gavin held Nines. There, in that dark apartment in Detroit, protected only by a pile of warm blankets, and movies that were too long, and lovely music and a familiar story, Gavin soothed Nines with gentle, loving touches, giving as much comfort as he could with no fear coming between them.

They passed out like that --Gavin from exhaustion and Nines from the strain to his systems-- and when they woke up the next day they were tangled together, and both of them pretended they weren’t blushing, and that their conversation that morning wasn’t stilted.

On the background, like a shield, the movies kept playing on loop, a protective spell the voice in Gavin’s head couldn’t break through.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, Gavin withdrew a little. He was careful about it, enough that Nines didn’t notice. At least he _ hoped _ he didn’t notice, because the last thing Gavin wanted was Nines to think he had done something wrong by being vulnerable.

The truth, however, was that Gavin was scared. His heart fluttered like a frightened bird on his chest whenever he was in Nines’ proximity, which was incredibly inconvenient as he worked with the guy and had to see him basically every day.

And, as if enraged at having been kept at bay that night Gavin had comforted Nines, the voice came back at full force, whispering poisonous, honey words into Gavin’s ear that left him anxious and stressed, the pressure building and building until Gavin felt something had to give or he would explode otherwise.

So, at a loss to what else to do, Gavin dedicated every spare bit of mental energy into trying to make Nines happy, meticulously planning dates and thinking of things he would like. He made a great effort to be supportive and kind, because he had to be _ good _ , Nines deserved someone good, and Gavin was not but he was _ trying _.

Unconsciously, he retreated under light touches again. 

He did not invite Nines into his flat, presenting excuses to always meet him in public, terrified of what he’d do if he had Nines’ attention all to himself. He craved it, desperately wanted it, and the constant fight between his contradictory feelings left him feeling drained, exhausted, and on edge, and he felt guilty for that too.

So perhaps things would have followed this course until they reached their breaking point if not for one morning when he woke up to Fliss curled on the couch, barely twitching even when Gavin pulled out her favorite toy to play with her as he used to do before her meals.

“Come on, you gremlin,” he tried to coax her, but she simply raised her head and meowed, pitifully.

That day, she didn’t eat breakfast. The pet sitter texted Gavin at noon to tell him Fliss was still lethargic, and had refused wet food. Gavin left work at three pm, and at three thirty he was at the vet with Fliss in a carrier, crying her heart out because she hated the carrier and she’d much rather be held.

Gavin’s heart almost stopped when the vet turned Fliss over and he saw the bald patch on the inner part of her right hind leg. It was the size of a quarter, a stark contrast against the white fur of her belly.

“Ah, alright, let’s see,” the vet mumbled, unperturbed as she looked at the flaky skin under a magnifying glass and a black light. “Her temperature _ is _ a little high, but the infection is not fungal. Bacterial, most likely. Her defenses must have dropped and she got sick.”

Gavin nodded, hugging Fliss closer when the cat climbed back into his arms and hid her head under his arm as she did when she was scared.

“Don’t make that face, Mr Reed. It’s not serious. I’ll give you a cream to put on her leg and some antibiotics, and you’ll call me tomorrow to see how she’s doing.”

Gavin was a nervous wreck when he went back home, but after some cajoling he managed to bribe Fliss into not to spitting back the quarter of the white tablet that was her antibiotic, and although she still refused food, she fell asleep on his chest, her reassuring weight managing to drag Gavin out of the panic attack he felt coming on.

When Gavin woke up, the living room was dark. 

Disoriented, he looked around him, unsure what it was that had woken him up. The electric clock on the shelf beside the TV informed him that it was a little past seven pm, and Gavin sighed, settling back into the couch. He was already dozing again when a knock on the door startled him into alertness, his flinch making Fliss to stare up at him in resentment.

“Sorry baby girl,” Gavin soothed, petting her and placing her back on the couch when he stood, pleased when she purred in answer.

Dragging his feet, he went to open the door. He was aware he must look awful-- eyes red and puffy, hair a mess-- but he fully expected Tina to be on the other side of the door, knocking because she’d misplaced her keys again.

When Gavin opened the door, it was not Tina who was standing there.

“Officer Chen told me about Felicia,” Nines began, reverting to titles as he did when he was nervous. Gavin blinked, disoriented. “I brought you dinner,” he said, half a question, holding up a carton of chinese food from a place Gavin favored.

For an endless moment, Gavin stared at it, uncomprehending. He didn’t remember if he had eaten anything at all that day, but apparently Nines had. And it was not a gift for Fliss he was holding. Tina had told him the cat was sick and Nines had--what? Thought that _ Gavin _ might need some looking after?

Unbalanced, but too tired to resist, Gavin nodded and opened the door wider, silently inviting Nines inside.

Thirty minutes later found Gavin watching Nines at the other end of the couch, Fliss curled into a ball in his lap, fast asleep after they had managed to tempt her with some treats.

Gavin was exhausted.

He felt tense, and overwhelmed, like he’d burst into tears at the slightest provocation. And because he was tired, and the thought of something happening to Fliss made him sick with fear, and Nines’ presence was soothing, he sat next to him on the couch and shyly rested his head on the android’s shoulder-- the only comfort he allowed himself because he didn’t dare ask to be held.

The voice whispered, of course it did, and Gavin’s lashes fluttered as it told it to fuck off, too tired to care.

By the third day, Fliss was almost herself again. She was still refusing to play, but she’d begun to eat normally and overall she looked brighter and more energetic than she’d been before.

Still, Nines’ visits didn’t stop. Fliss needed to take her medicine twice a day, and although after the second day they had figured that wrapping the quarter of a pill in ham seemed to work somehow, Fliss still had the habit of spitting the medicine out and only eating the treat.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” Gavin sighed, fondly, petting her even though he knew he was enabling the bad behaviour. 

However, now that Fliss was obviously better, the mood shifted between them again. Although tentatively at first, in the quiet of Gavin’s apartment they started to talk about inconsequential things again, trading opinions on books and movies and music, sometimes sharing the bits of their respective days when they had not been in the precinct together.

That’s how Gavin found out about Rin and Laura coming back from their trip, and the way Nines delighted on Rin’s bright eyes as she described everything about her degree and the place that would be her home in the next three or four years. This was the way he found out about Emma --Gavin wanted to smack the woman-- and Oliver and Cecil’s friendship, and how Cecil had begged his mom for a cat, which Amelia was very seriously contemplating.

Gavin didn’t have as much to share, but he told Nines silly stories about him and Tina, about dumb things he had done in school, the places he liked as a kid. All very boring, but Nines always seemed delighted to listen, hanging on Gavin’s every word with a fascination that humbled the man.

“A while back you said you liked the Lord of the Rings because Frodo never really recovers,” Nines said one night. They were hanging out, keeping an eye on a cranky Fliss who was trying to hide under the couch, aware that the time for the last dose of her medicine was approaching.

“I did?” Gavin frowned, distracted. It had been a long time since he’d given up sitting away from Nines on the couch, and now he enjoyed the android’s solid presence beside him. “You still thinking about those books?”

“I enjoyed them,” Nines answered, and Gavin smiled when he caught the slight note of defensiveness. “You like them as well.”

He snorted, because he was not telling Nines, but he’d actually had the _ The Two Towers _ on his bedside table, slowly but surely going through it whenever he had the chance. He shrugged. “Yes, well. What about Frodo?”

“You implied that the narrative was made better by the trauma. I have thought about it and I would greatly like to know why you think so.”

“Shit, Nines, I don’t know.” Gavin scratched his head, trying to figure out when the hell had he said such a thing. He was pretty sure he had never expressed such an opinion. “I just—like it? I mean, all the stories usually end with everyone going home again and being all happy and shit. And that’s fine, I guess, it’s fantasy. But it’s a lie. Things are not like that.”

There was a silence in which Gavin’s heart sped up, suddenly realizing what he had said.

“What are they like?” Nines asked, voice gentle.

Gavin looked down, nervous. 

Although he had never thought about it much, he knew the answer to that. For a wild second, he wondered if he should lie. Instinctively, he turned to look at Nines, trying to gauge from his expression whether he actually wanted an answer or not.

Nines was already looking at him. His LED was blue, and he didn’t look impatient or upset. He was just silently, patiently waiting for Gavin to gather his thoughts, and his blue stare forcefully reminded Gavin that this was not his ex. 

And...Nines had seen him. 

He’d seen Gavin messed up and scared, and had brought him food, and had offered their silent comfort when Gavin had needed it, so maybe...

“Not okay. Not happy, in the end,” he whispered. “I think you’re lucky if you manage to make it home at all. Happiness is not…it’s not important, compared to that.” He swallowed then, for that was as much as he could expose himself, and immediately stood to go towards the TV, his voice normal again. “Shit, why are we talking about this depressing crap for? Let’s watch a movie.”

Before Gavin could go very far, however, there was a hand on his wrist, holding him in place. Surprised, Gavin looked down at Nines’ pale fingers against his darker skin. The hold was light, unexpected because Gavin was 100% sure he could break away if he wanted. 

Nines was an android designed for hunting deviants. Gavin never thought about it too much, but it would be so easy for him to overpower an average person. And yet, what held Gavin in place was the way the touch felt grounding, not restrictive. Nines wasn’t using his strength against him. Would never use his strength against him.

“Gavin,” Nines called, voice very soft. “Who hurt you?”

Gavin felt his lungs constrict, the air leaving him in a rush. However, he laughed to cover it up, a fake, brittle sound that sounded ugly between them.

“You make it sound like a big deal, tin man,” he said, trying as hard as he could to deflect, to project nonchalance. It was okay. It would be okay, if only Gavin believed it hard enough. There was no reason for Nines to suspect otherwise. “Don’t worry about it. People are hurt all the time, it’s part of being alive.”

“I do not want you to be hurt,” Nines told him, with so much earnestness that Gavin felt his heart break at the words. “I want…” he trailed off. He looked up at Gavin’s face, searching for something in the man’s expression before he finished, “it’d be an honor to listen. If you want to tell me.”

_ Why? _ Was the first thing that came to Gavin’s mind. He almost asked-- why? Always why, why do you want to know me, why are you so lovely, why do you care about me?

But he swallowed the words. None of those questions had ever had a good answer, and Gavin couldn’t bring himself to deal with a broken heart right now. Instead…

He owed Nines this, he supposed. Maybe he’d listen to Gavin’s fucked up story and finally reconsider. It was not like he wouldn’t eventually find out how broken Gavin was, no matter how hard he’d been working to cover it.

All the strength sapped of him, he sat back down on the couch, although a little farther than before. Nines’ hand fell away when he did, and Gavin told himself he didn’t miss the touch.

“He got tired of me, I guess that’s the bottom line,” he began, trying to put together his thoughts. In his long list of hurts, the break up with his ex was the safest, as stupid as that was. “I…we had known each other for ten years. Already friends. He was the one that always wanted me, but I was never into him like that. Until I was,” Gavin snorted, smirked, hiding the hurt as well as he knew how. 

Absently, Gavin fidgeted with the chain around his neck, trying to decide how to continue. The flat was silent around them, bathed in the soft golden glow of one lamp, and Gavin wished for some music in the background, for any noise in which he could hide the emotion in his words.

“We lived four years together. He…he said…we were going to be married in spring.” That’s all Gavin could say. He didn’t speak about the words of love, the promises. He couldn’t bear to think about it. “But he started working late. He just—didn’t seem happy to come home.” _ To me _, he didn’t say, but it hung in the air, heavy and sharp and ugly. “When I asked him about it he said it was nothing, that things were okay. And I, like an idiot, believed him. But he lied to me. He left me one day. Just…I woke up and he wasn’t there beside me. His bags were already at the door. Told me he was unhappy, that this was for the best. Just like that. Ten years of friendship, four more of being together…and for him, it was so easy.” 

_ You’re so dramatic _ , the man in the memory said. _ Why don’t you calm down so we can talk like adults? _

“And you know what’s the worst?” Gavin choked out. He hated the memories, he hated to get emotional, he hated the hurt and feeling again like the fool he’d been back then. “That I can’t help but think, how long? For how long did he plan to leave me? For how long was he unhappy? When he whispered words of love to me, when he told me everything was fine, was he lying then too? And why…why didn’t I notice?”

The silence between them was heavy, but Gavin was grateful for it because it allowed him to pull himself together. This was actually the first time he’d told this story to someone else, because Tina had been there to live it with him, and no one else had ever asked.

“I’m so stupid, am I not? It has already been three years, and I’m still…”

A gentle touch on his cheek made Gavin fall silent. When he turned to Nines, the android was looking at Gavin with an intense expression the man couldn't decipher. And more than that, the hand that cupped Gavin’s cheek was warm, Nines’ thumb tracing around Gavin’s cheekbone as if wiping tears that were not there.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and the sorrow in his voice almost undid Gavin.

“Don’t be daft,” Gavin chuckled, desperate to deflect and lighten the mood. “You had nothing to do with that.” But even through their small touch Gavin could feel Nines’ fingers tremble. “Nines?” he asked, alarmed.

“I’m sorry,” Nines whispered again, LED red. “I’m so sorry…” he repeated. “I also…is that what you thought? When I didn’t say anything about the DPD? That I also left you? Just like that...”

And Gavin’s eyes widened, because although he knew Nines was an android made for deductive work, he’d never thought he’d connect the dots, never expected he’d figured out the reason for his lash out when Nines had so unexpectedly appeared at the DPD, heart broken at once again being so blatantly used and deceived by someone he’d--

“That was still mostly my fault, it’s not your fault I have baggage,” Gavin told Nines, because he’d be damned if Nines kept blaming himself for Gavin’s stupid reaction. “It’s okay, tin man, I was overreacting. And as for _ him _,” Gavin spat out, because he still couldn’t bring himself to say his ex’s name. “People are like that. They care only about themselves, and will use you if you let them. I can’t complain though, because I’m the same.”

“You’re not. You care,” Nines answered, his voice so strong and vehement that it startled Gavin into silence. “You hide your heart well, but you care. You care about Tina, and you care about the cats, and…you care about me,” he finished. Gavin couldn’t do anything but look at him, disarmed, his heart beating so quickly and so full emotion Gavin was certain it would quit him at any moment. 

What was it about Nines, he wondered, that moved him so? What was about his words that made him feel like he was whole again, that made all of the walls he’d spent years building up crumble so easily?

“Gavin…” Nines asked, “May I kiss you?”

Gavin’s lashes fluttered, and even as he stood on the edge of doubt he knew the answer. He shouldn’t --_ he shouldn’t _\-- but he wasn’t strong enough to refuse something he so desperately wanted.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Nines’ hands were impossibly gentle as they cupped his face. 

Kissing Nines was strange. His lips were soft, smooth to the touch, but they didn’t have any give. It made for a strange sensation, nothing like kissing a human, but it was right because it was like kissing Nines and Gavin felt his heart fluttering as it had not done since his first kiss, since the first time he had kissed someone he liked, a clumsy, eager kiss hidden under the stairs of an old school.

It lasted only a few seconds, the pressure so, so soft and gentle that Gavin could have dreamed it was there. When he opened his eyes, he found that Nines had closed his as well, and they were still nose to nose when their eyes met, green against blue.

It was Nines who pressed his lips to Gavin’s again, just as tenderly, cupping Gavin’s face to hold him in place. Nines’ careful movements made something wild and powerful and all encompassing come to life inside Gavin, and he couldn’t help but pull back and lick his lips before reinitiating the kiss, leaning further into Nines’ space to angle his face just right. Nines’ lips parted in surprise under the firmer pressure, but Gavin didn’t take the opportunity. Instead, he allowed the android to lead, melting against him as Nines moved his lips in answer to Gavin’s, slow light kisses that made Gavin’s spine turn liquid.

He sighed into the kiss, and it was like something snapped within Nines because his kisses became deeper, more urgent. And Gavin let go. He gave himself over to Nines’ explorations, shaking as Nines’ lips left his own to trail kisses all over Gavin’s face— on his brow, down his nose, over his stubble. 

And god. This was way more intimate that any sex he’d ever had, and when Nines claimed his lips again Gavin could only give himself over, give and give, because this was Nines, and his lips were warm, and his kiss slow and so very gentle.

When Nines kissed the underside of Gavin’s jaw, the man shook, and he didn’t notice the death grip he had on Nines’ shoulders until the android pulled back.

“Is this okay?” Nines fucking _ whispered _, and in the dark living room the words sounded so intimate that Gavin felt his face turn redder than it already was. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

The laugh that forced it’s way out of Gavin’s throat was choked, first because what the _ fuck _ and second because it was obvious that Nines was making an effort to restrain himself and Gavin though that fact alone might kill him.

Embarrassed by his own reactions, Gavin leaned forward to hide his face on Nines’ shoulder, and he could clearly feel Nines’ delight at the new closeness when the android wrapped his arms around Gavin.

“You ask me that as if I’m a virgin,” Gavin chuckled, voice muffled by Nines’ clothes.

“Levels of comfort have nothing to do with experience,” Nines informed him, and that was such a Nines thing to say that suddenly Gavin felt his heart swell.

God, Gavin loved him. He loved this ridiculous android with a strength that was earth shattering. 

Gavin had not known his heart could love in such a way, but Nines was-- like breathing. He had never loved someone in such a desperate way, needed someone else’s presence like a plant needs the sun. Nines was--he was everything, deserved everything, and Gavin...

He pulled back, and Nines reluctantly let him go. 

“Maybe I don’t want you to regret it,” Gavin said at last, softly, the truth sharp and frail between them.

“I do not,” Nines answered, cupping Gavin’s cheek again, and his touch was so tender that Gavin wanted to cry. Nines touched him with care, like he was precious. “I could never.”

And Gavin shook, because that was the moment he knew he was done for. Within him, fear rose almost as strong as his love. This was it. As he looked into Nines’ gentle eyes, Gavin was struck with the absolute certainty that Nines could destroy him if he wanted, and he had handed him all of the tools in a silver platter himself.

Gently, he disentangled himself from Nines.

“Time to check on Fliss,” he announced, fleeing to the other side of the apartment as if that could shield him from Nines’ loving gaze and the strength of his own feelings.

In his mind, a voice whispered.

_ Coward_, it said. _ He will leave you. Not enough. _

_Never enough.  
_


	8. Nines' Birthday

In white wings of snow January ended, and when February arrived, it brought with it a tentative warmth, a subtle reminder of the spring that was to come.

February, just like the months before it, was busy. There were three important things that happened to Nines and Gavin, although even if they had discussed them between themselves (and even when they did, a long time afterwards), they wouldn’t have agreed which was more important. 

First, Nines was made detective on a cold day of early February, in a promotion ceremony that included three more people from their precinct.

From the back of the room, Gavin watched Nines receive his badge, as far away from Connor and Hank as he could manage. The auditorium of Greater Grace Temple was big and elegant, perfect for such a ceremony, and although Gavin knew he should be glad for Nines, he found it hard to remain so for long.

It was bittersweet, but as he watched Nines step forward to receive his new badge, Gavin couldn't help but think about his own promotion to detective. Back then, Hank had been in the front row, beaming at Gavin just like he probably was beaming at Nines, and although Gavin was way past resenting Nines for it, he couldn’t help but feel...strange. Detached. Like the Gavin that had so eagerly received the badge and grinned at Hank was another person. 

Like all those things had happened to some stranger and not him.

Still, when Nines was officially made detective, Gavin clapped with the rest of the audience. On the podium, Nines looked stern in his fitted uniform, his blank expression at odds with the way his LED flickered yellow, whirling so quickly that the light looked almost solid.

For Nines’ sake, Gavin smiled, but he wondered if the anxiousness he felt was born out of the feelings he could read on Nines’ countenance, or if he was projecting his own unto the android.

However, Gavin didn’t have any mixed feelings when it was Pearson who got her new badge. In sharp contrast to Nines, the woman was beaming, proud delight etched into her every move as she walked to the podium. Gavin clapped loudly, and then whistled just to be obnoxious, pleased when Pearson’s gaze went to him immediately and she rolled her eyes a little, although her grin didn’t dim in the slightest.

After the ceremony ended and the official pictures were taken, Gavin made his way to Nines to offer his congratulations. He had kept an eye on the stiff android all through the event, and he inwardly sighed in resignation when he saw Connor and Hank get to him first.

Change of plans. With a grimace, Gavin looked around for Pearson, because although he knew he was going to have to face Connor and Hank eventually --if only because they were part of Nines’ life-- that day was not going to be today.

Gavin found Pearson in the lobby, talking animatedly to Fowler, and Gavin smirked as he walked towards them, patting Pearson on the shoulder to congratulate her.

Things calmed down a little after a while, and Gavin was mildly surprised that Pearson didn’t excuse herself when Fowler left them. After a somewhat rocky beginning, they had worked well together, mostly because Pearson was a no-nonsense person in a way that reminded Gavin of Tina, but they had never been close. In the almost three years they had worked together, they had never been friends, and even when Gavin had agreed to mentor the woman when Fowler asked, he never had the impression she particularly liked him.

It was fine by Gavin, as he, by default, didn’t expect to make friends at work, but that’s why he was surprised when she didn’t leave as soon as she had the chance, instead remaining by his side watching people walk by, something they had done on occasion when on duty. 

Now, as the seconds went by, it felt strangely nostalgic, like the echo of a moment that had already passed. Gavin hadn’t been aware how comfortable the silences had become between them, but we _ did _ know that now that Pearson was a detective, there was no way she’d remain as his partner.

“Feels unfair, doesn’t it?” Pearson said, snapping Gavin out of his thoughts. “It took him four months to get what took me two years to achieve,” and it took Gavin a couple of heartbeats to notice she was looking towards where Nines was still talking to Connor and Hank.

Gavin blinked, at a loss to what to say but shocked by the rush of adrenaline Pearson’s words provoked. He had thought the same after all, not too long ago.

“Don’t worry. I don’t resent him,” the woman shrugged, for some reason interpreting Gavin’s silence as disapproval. “We all have our circumstances after all, and he doesn’t look happy at all. Although he’s not very expressive, is he?” she commented. She was thoughtful, like she was thinking aloud instead of talking to Gavin at all. “It must be awful though, to have your life’s purpose decided from the start and having to stick to it. I’m sure I’d be unhappy too.”

Gavin frowned as he looked at Nines, the ugly knot of guilt over his heart getting tighter and tighter with each of Pearson’s words. On the other side of the room, Connor was laughing, but Nines’ LED was still amber, hands fisted at his sides.

“But anyway, that’s not what I wanted to say.” 

It were Gavin’s long years of training that helped him catch the shift on the woman’s voice. When he turned his attention to her again, she was already watching him with that stern look in her face that was characteristic of her, and Gavin wondered why it was that he apparently always got involved with serious people. 

“Thanks for helping me,” she said, eyes earnest. “Fowler told me you’ve been putting a good word for me here and there when you had the chance. And I...appreciate it. Your discretion. And your help as well.”

Gavin blinked, taken aback. “I did nothing. It was all you. You saved my life too,” he hurried to add when Pearson looked ready to argue, “so technically it’s me who owes you.”

She looked at him for a moment, searching for something in his face, and Gavin was completely baffled when she smiled. “When I was first assigned as your partner I was so incredibly pissed off, you know? I didn’t really want to work with you. I was sure you were an asshole,” she chuckled, and Gavin shifted his weight, barely able to keep from fidgeting. “And you know what? You sort of are, but...not in the way I expected,” her face softened then, reflected an emotion Gavin had never seen in her before as she offered her hand in a shake. “I’m grateful. So, thanks, Reed. I’ve learnt a lot from you.”

Gavin swallowed, trying to subdue the fluttering of his heart. “Stop that bullshit would you?” he asked, to deflect. He was sure his ears were red. “You might as well call me Gavin.”

“Only if you call me Sarah. Gavin,” Sarah grinned. “I’m sure Fowler will officially let you know too, but I asked for a transfer. Not because of you, mind, but I want to be closer to home. I thought it’d be only right to give you heads up, and to tell you that, well... if you ever need anything, or hell, even if you’re in the area, don’t hesitate to reach out, okay? I’d love to catch up anytime.”

There was an endless moment in which Gavin stared, consternated, almost doubting what he had heard. Even though it was true he had been trying to help Pearson, it just had never occurred to him that she’d thank him, _ that she’d want to be friends with him afterwards _.

However, the open, hopeful expression and the extended hand were too obvious hints for him to doubt Pear-- _ Sarah’s _ honest offer, and like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, Gavin smiled, carefree and from the bottom of his heart, because Sarah looked so happy, and he was glad he had managed to help her, and because this was the first time a colleague had thanked him like this.

“Good luck out there, Sarah. It’s been great working with you,” he answered sincerely, shaking her hand.

She grinned in answer. “Likewise. Let’s go for a coffee sometime, yes? You can keep me updated on the gossip of the precinct.”

“Sure,” Gavin smiled, and he meant it.

Sarah excused herself short after, but Gavin remained in the near empty hall for a few more minutes, hiding his smile under one hand. Part of him felt a little sad, because saying goodbye was always difficult, and he _ would _ miss Sarah, but he was happy too.

“She learnt a lot from me, huh?” he mumbled to himself, chuckling, before turning around to go find Fowler.

And because his thoughts were busy thinking about the future, he didn’t notice Hank’s gaze following him from the other side of the room as he left.

* * *

The second important thing that happened in February was, of course, Valentine’s day.

That year, it fell on a Tuesday, and it was a big deal because, one, Gavin had never been in a relationship in which the day wasn’t a big deal, and two, because it forced him to think about something he had been avoiding to: the nature of his relationship with Nines. And if he didn’t freak out it was only because he had a lot to think about during that time.

After the promotion ceremony, Fowler had called Gavin into his office as soon as they had set a foot on the precinct again. This was something Gavin expected, if with some trepidation. 

He had expected to be informed of his new partner. He had not expected, however, to be congratulated.

“You did a good job with Pearson, Reed,” Fowler said, peering at Gavin from behind his desk and Gavin, as not to give away his embarrassment but needing to move, fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket as discreetly as possible.

“She did a good job herself,” he muttered, dismissive as if he didn’t care even as something warm unfurled on his chest at the praise.

“Of course, but you did well by her.” Fowler studied him for a couple of seconds more before he slightly bowed his head. “Was it easy working with her?”

Gavin snorted, because thinking back to their early months, and Sarah’s stony face and refusal to talk to him, it damned well hadn’t. “Not at first.”

Fowler noded. “I did that on purpose,” and yeah, Gavin had known that. “A test, if you want. We’ve talked a lot about your promotion, but that involves more than just a good nose for cases. It involves dealing with people, which I was not convinced you could do well.”

“Do you mean to tell me you assigned me a fucking problem child to test me?” Gavin asked, eyebrows raised. What the fuck.

“You are a poster definition of a problem child yourself, does it surprise you?”

“Fuck off,” Gavin huffed, without heat, torn between amusement and offense.

“Language,” Fowler scolded, and Gavin rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I have to confess you did a better job than I expected. And in light of that, I would like to recommend you take the exam for sergeant next year. I think you’re ready. You have my full support.”

Gavin swallowed, heart beating fast in his chest. This, Fowler’s support, was something he had long coveted and it figured that it was happening now, when he had his hands full with plenty of other things.

“Sergeant Reed,” he smirked to cover his feelings, and was pleased when Fowler looked towards the ceiling in exasperation.

“Don’t be too cocky now. You have plenty of work to do this year. I’m assigning you a new partner and I need you to be for him what you were for Pearson, understand?”

With that, Fowler stood from his chair and went to open the door.

“Come in,” he said to someone outside.

Gavin liked to think he had been prepared. 

The second Pearson had been made detective, he’d known. 

And still, it was a shock to watch Nines walk into the office.

He looked different.

It was not only that he had left his police uniform behind. The android sitting beside him was wearing a simple black button up and black trousers, which made him look almost informal in comparison. 

But that was not it. 

Nines was at attention, patiently listening to Fowler lecturing them about supporting each other and what not, but by now Gavin knew him enough to get an accurate read on him. And Nines, for the first time since Gavin had seen him in the precinct, looked almost normal. Gone was the weight on his shoulders, the way his hands would get twitchy at his side. 

His LED, on his temple, was blue.

He looked...almost...

“Do you understand, Reed?” Fowler frowned, and Gavin sighed, loud and obnoxious.

“Yeah, yeah. Same as always. Get along. Babysit the android,” he waved, and when Nines turned towards him, there was a spark of humor in his eyes, like he could see right through Gavin’s facade.

Yes, Gavin thought, zoning out again as soon as Fowler started to brief them on the new case.

Nines looked happy.

Well, good, Gavin decided, straightening on his chair and nodding when Fowler handed him the case file. It was better like this. His personal life and work life were both a handful, so it was perhaps better that they were tangled up like this. He’d be able to keep a closer eye on Nines like this and show him the ropes at the same time. He wouldn’t let Nines come to harm. He could protect him better if he was always by his side.

His determination was almost something solid. It shifted, hardening until it enveloped all of him, like a shield protecting his heart.

He would not fail.

He’d protect Nines and guide him. 

This time, he wouldn’t be a disappointment. 

So all in all, Gavin had so much on his plate that week that thinking about Valentine’s day took a backseat in favor of everything else. 

Despite that, three days before the 14th, midnight found him awake, rolling around on his bed, unable to sleep. Although insomnia was something that had always been present in his life, it had been getting worse of late. He could barely sleep when Nines was not in the flat, and even though he knew the answer to that problem as easy to fix —Nines would be delighted to stay over and help— Gavin couldn’t bring himself to ask.

So, deciding he wasn’t going back to sleep for the time being, Gavin got out of bed. He had to stop midway to lean against a wall, a dizzy spell making his eyes dark for a moment. 

In the deep darkness of the room, Gavin took a moment to assess himself. 

He was exhausted. Work, and Fliss’ illness, and the situation with Nines had left him feeling weary as he hadn’t been in a long time.

Fuck, but he needed sleep. 

However, instead of returning to bed, Gavin pushed away from the wall to leave his room, expertly finding his way in the darkness. Although he knew that in other circumstances he’d feel anxious at not being able to sleep, at that moment he didn’t have the energy for it. He felt loose, strangely calm, and maybe that was what allowed him to think about Nines and their relationship without his throat constricting, without the heavy weight he felt around his neck sometimes like an iron collar.

Gavin knew where they were headed.

They were friends, and more than friends.

A romantic relationship, Nines had said and yes, that was what was between them, their destination. They were involved already, and Gavin was keenly aware of his own feelings in the matter.

Slow, Gavin had asked, in a moment of truth, when he probably should have kept his mouth shut.

He didn’t know how long Nines would wait for him.

Breathing deeply, Gavin shook the cold fear that tried to climb up his stomach towards his lungs. Valentine’s day was a good chance. He’d prepare something nice for Nines, and maybe…formalize things? It was what Nines deserved.

_ What about you? _

The memory of Tina’s voice was so loud in his ears that he flinched. Surreptitiously, Gavin looked around, not completely sure Tina had not suddenly materialized at his place. Heart beating on his chest, Gavin slowly and methodically checked the door and all the windows, and then his phone when everything turned out to be okay.

No messages from Tina.

From underneath the couch, Fliss chirped at him, and then dashed in the shadows, chasing a pink mouse shaped toy, active in the dark.

What about him?

He was in love with Nines. Among the mess that were his other feelings, this was the one thing that kept him going. Even then, alone, the strength of the knowledge warmed him, something soft and gentle blooming in Gavin’s chest until he felt it might overflow and spill, warm and golden and soothing.

It calmed him down just as effectively as Nines’ voice did, and for once Gavin allowed himself the comfort. 

He loved Nines, and whatever the rest of the world believed, Gavin had never been afraid of commitment. In fact, it was the opposite: he tended to go all in, his feelings often scaring potential partners. He had been about to get married, for fucks’ sake.

Then why…why was he so reluctant to formalize this relationship?

Once more, Gavin leaned against a wall, rubbing his eyes with a rough hand.

Fuck he was so tired.

“Where should I take him for a date, Fliss?” he asked the darkness. Absently, he considered the old guitar he kept on the spare room, and immediately flushed at his corniness, dismissing the stupid idea. It had been ages since he had played after all.

With a sigh, he retraced his steps and threw himself gracelessly onto the couch. It was muscle memory that made him burrow under the blankets without conscious thought.

“Maybe somewhere fancy?” he wondered aloud, imagining places he could take Nines to.

With a snort, he made himself comfortable, resting his head on a cushion that had been used for this purpose so many times that it had an indentation in the shape of his head. As he shifted, his eyes fell on his bookshelf. It was dark, but the golden light from the lamp outside his window made a puddle of light in the middle of the living room, enough for Gavin to see his surroundings. 

_ The Lord of the Rings _ sat incomplete on the shelf, and Gavin cursed when he realized he should have taken _ The Two Towers _, that was on his bedside table, with him to read.

Nines _ would _ like a fancy restaurant, even if it was not his thing. 

He would like it even though what he loved was books, and music, and art, and flowers, and all things alive and beautiful. That was because Nines loved the world, and that was another thing in which he was the opposite of Gavin, and even though Gavin didn’t believe in god he prayed Nines would always be like that, that he would always be safe, and loved, and happy.

The familiar weight of Fliss didn’t startle Gavin when she jumped on the couch, although the cat had been completely silent. As she used to, Fliss looked for Gavin’s chest, little paws stepping on tender places as she trustingly walked all over him. Then, she curled over his heart, and kneading the blankets she began to purr, delighted she got to spend the night on her favorite spot in the world.

Smiling, Gavin petted her, softly.

Then, with the grounding weight of the cat sleeping on his chest, Gavin thought of Nines, of his bright LED and his blue eyes, and feeling too exhausted but comforted and safe, went to sleep.

* * *

Despite Gavin’s misgivings, he was saved from having to decide what to do on Valentine’s day by Nines himself.

“Cooking?” Gavin repeated, surprised, after listening to Nines' proposition. They usually didn’t talk about their private life at work, but the day had been long and Gavin had decided to take a break on the rooftop of the DPD. That evening, Nines had followed.

“You always do things for me,” Nines explained, and his LED flickered in a way that would have given away his nervousness even if his voice didn’t. “I wanted...I’d like to do something for you too, but my kitchen is unsuitable for such endeavors. I came to the conclusion that the most effective solution would be to cook at your place,” he finished, his blue eyes completely earnest, and fuck. Gavin was used to be the one taking care of other people, was _ comfortable _ with it, and the idea that Nines wanted to do something for _ him _…

Gavin didn’t know what to feel about that.

He must have been silent for a second too long because Nines’ shoulders slumped, defeated.

“…whatever I produce might not be edible though,” he mumbled in the smallest voice Gavin had heard of him and Gavin bit his lip, torn between amusement and affectionate protectiveness.

“Knock yourself out,” he shrugged, because at this point there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Nines and he was well aware of it.

So the evening of the 14th found Gavin in front of his bathroom mirror, carefully shaving and trying not to overthink things. He had managed to escape from work, if not early, at least on time, and he knew he had an hour or so before Nines came knocking on his door after buying whatever ingredients he wanted to use to cook for Gavin.

Shit, _ Nines wanted to cook for him _.

Looking at himself in the mirror, Gavin breathed deeply, trying not to freak out at the thought. It had been literal years since someone had done something like that for him -- Tina’s culinary abilities, bless her, were limited to beverages, instant noodles and reheating leftovers-- and Gavin thought he shouldn’t be reading as much into it as he was.

It was just cooking, for fuck’s sake. It was not like Nines was proposing.

Still, the domesticity of it made his stomach twist into knots as he walked back into his room and eyed the blue button up carefully laid on the bed. Maybe it was dumb but Gavin had always dressed up for dates and damn him but this was a date too, even if he and Nines were staying in.

Still, doubt trickled down his spine, cold and uncomfortable. What if it was too much? Gavin was about to go to his closet to pick something else, something less formal, when his phone vibrated, the loud noise it made against the wood of his bedside table almost making him jump out of his skin.

Rubbing his eyes, he peered at the lit screen of his phone.

It was Tina.

> _ I can FEEL you freaking out _

_ > wear the damned shirt _

Gavin chuckled, the knot on his stomach easing somewhat. Tina must be about to go out on a date herself, and Gavin cherished the fact that she had spared a thought for him and his dumb nerves. 

So, grinning, he picked up his phone to send her an avalanche of text faces to annoy her, and made the executive decision to stop being dumb. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know that Nines was into him after all.

When he was dressed, Gavin stood in front of the mirror one last time, carefully assessing himself. His hair was in place, and the button up was form fitting, and he did look good if he said so himself. 

As an afterthought, he ran a hand around his bare neck, eyeing the St Christopher’s necklace that was resting on a corner of the bathroom cabinet. For a second, he wanted to leave it behind, not wear it like he always did. He didn’t need it anymore, really, but Gavin couldn’t deny the comfort he found in it, in the fairy tale it represented and in the memories it carried with it.

Carefully, he picked it up, rubbing the image of the saint between his thumb and index finger like a worry stone. He had been young when Hank gave it to him, barely a year from having made it into the force, and he had worn it around his neck ever since.

Gavin’s lashes lowered as he thought about things he had tried not to dwell on for a long time. Maybe it was time to let go of that as well.

He would not wear it, Gavin decided, putting it back down. His fingers tingled a little as he did so, but perhaps he didn’t need it. Not with Nines.

A loud meow at the door gave him a couple of seconds warning before the doorbell rang. When Gavin walked into the living room, Fliss was scratching at the door, meowing loudly. She threw a reproachful look at Gavin when he appeared, urging him to hurry, and scratching the door again when Gavin wasn’t quick enough to her liking.

“What’s your deal, stinker?” Gavin smiled. “It’s only Nines.”

However, he hadn’t fully opened the door when #9 slid inside, the big fluffy cat confidently striding between Gavin’s legs like this was something he did every day.

“Well,” Gavin said, eyebrows raised as he watched the cats greet each other, licking and purring and going nuts as they did whenever they were together. “That’s new, he usually comes in from the window.” And that was when he realized Nines had not followed #9 inside.

Nines was on the doorway, carrying a big paper bag with groceries. He was frozen, shamelessly staring at Gavin, and the man congratulated himself for having made the effort when he saw the android’s LED go red.

Gavin knew he cleaned up well.

He had used it more to his advantage in his twenties, but although he didn’t take care of himself as much as he used to, he was self aware enough to know how he looked in tight jeans and a button up. And although he had made an effort too on their other dates, this time there wasn’t a parka to hide his form from view.

There was also the fact that he had chosen to wear this particular blue shirt because he knew how flattering it was on him, but he was not about to confess that.

“Hello to you too,” he smirked, pleased by Nines’ reaction. Something warm curled on his gut at the attention, and he wondered if it would be too weird if he leaned forward and welcomed Nines with a kiss.

They had not kissed since that awkward day Gavin had spilled his guts, but right then, under Nines’ hot gaze, Gavin found that he wanted to. He wanted to very much.

Gavin was a bit disappointed when, before he could gather the courage to do so, Nines blinked and let out a breath, LED going back down to yellow until it finally settled on blue.

“He has started to follow me into my apartment,” Nines explained,coming inside and closing the door behind him. It took Gavin a couple of seconds to understand what he was talking about, too busy noticing how comfortable Nines was moving in Gavin’s space, and by then the android had placed the groceries on the kitchen counter. “I guess he knew I was coming to see you.” He continued, and his LED blinked one more time before he turned towards Gavin. “You look very handsome tonight.” 

Gavin averted his face, trying to hide his blush. He hadn’t expected the compliment.

“Huh, you said you wanted to cook?” he asked clumsily after a couple of heart beats. When he risked looking at Nines, the android was watching him. He wasn’t smiling --Nines did not, could not, smile. But his LED was blinking blue on his temple and Gavin had the sensation he was anyway.

“I thought, and it’s of course fine if you don’t like the idea,” Nines said, suddenly nervous. “Since it’s a tradition to gift chocolate on Valentine’s day, I thought that perhaps I could make a chocolate dinner for you.”

Gavin stared at him open mouthed, trying to process what he had heard. 

“A chocolate dinner?”

“I saw it in a magazine, and...maybe the idea is childish,” Nines babbled. “I don’t really know your food preferences, so if you don’t like chocolate, or if it’s too much sugar for one evening, then there’s no need…”

“Hey,” Gevin interrupted. In two strides he was at Nines’ side, gently cupping his face so he’d look at Gavin. Fucking hell, was Nines going to kill him. “That...that is…” and because he couldn’t put into words how completely adorable the idea was, he smiled instead, immediately feeling Nines relax at his reaction. “Look, I love chocolate, okay? And I don’t think having chocolate for dinner once a year is going to hurt me.”

Nines beamed. “I’ll be very careful with the ingredients,” he promised, lively once again now that he knew his surprise was welcome, “so the cats don’t come to harm by accident.”

Gavin noded, glancing behind him towards the cats, who were completely wrapped up in each other and didn’t look interested in the people’s activities at all.

“Good. Then, how should I help?”

Enchanted, Gavin listened to Nines’ plans for the evening. He had bought enough ingredients to make brownies, chocolate mousse and truffles. On the side, he piled walnuts and cherries and a more expensive dark chocolate to melt into heart shaped molds. 

Furthermore, Nines had been thoughtful enough to print a list of the cooking utensils they needed, and although there were a couple Gavin didn’t have, they would make do. So Gavin gave himself over to the task of finding the kitchen supplies while Nines separated the ingredients.

At Nines’ request, Gavin mostly watched, only intevening when Nines wasn’t quite sure of the proceedings or asked for advice. He tried not to make himself too much of a nuisance, but he couldn’t help to steal a bite or two of brownie batter under Nines’ indulgent eyes. He cackled like mad when Nines gave him the spatula to lick clean with a raised eyebrow. 

“I understand this is a human tradition?”

“Hell, yes it is,” Gavin confirmed. The batter tasted dull, courtesy of Nines’ lack of sense of taste and blind faith on recipes that were written by people that had probably never eaten a well seasoned meal in their lives, but Gavin said nothing. He felt something he couldn’t name by watching Nines cook with such dedication, measuring everything three times like it was of utmost importance everything was perfect for Gavin.

It was a strange feeling of fullness, like when you stuff yourself full with your favorite food, of belonging, of the kind of excitement one felt when going to bed and expecting to awake to some joyful experience. 

No one he had ever dated had ever taken the time to cook a meal for him, and that Nines was willing to do it even though he was bad at it, made Gavin strangely emotional. He felt drunk on the feeling, and he was aware he was laughing more than usual, but Nines’ eyes sparkled every time he did and he didn’t care at all.

A couple of hours later Gavin had the meal in front of him. Nines had, of course, made entirely too much for a single person to ever be able to eat, and yet Gavin did his best. There was no fucking way he was sleeping that night, not with all the sugar and the excitement, and maybe that was it. 

It was surely the sugar, and not that Nines had found the one cat apron Gavin owned. The chocolate, and not that he felt happy, and loved, and secure; but in a smooth movement Gavin stood on his toes and placed a soft, chaste kiss on Nines’ cheek, heart hammering on his chest at just that touch.

There was a clunk as Nines dropped whatever he had on his hands into the sink. For a long moment time stood still as they assessed each other. And then, just as gently as the first time, Nines cupped Gavin’s face with one hand, a thumb running over Gavin’s freshly shaved cheek.

“May I?” Nines asked, formal and polite, and Gavin felt his knees go weak a little at the low cadence of his voice.

“You don’t have to ask every time,” Gavin mumbled, blushing but tilting his face in invitation.

Nines looked like he wanted to disagree, but after a second he leaned down and they were kissing softly, a tentative press of lips that was almost shy in its gentleness.

They pulled away after several eternities, neither of them moving away.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” Nines mumbled in awe, and it was only then that Gavin noticed that Nines’ hand had moved down to his neck and the other had somehow slipped around his waist, unnoticed. 

Gavin had already opened his mouth to say something when the hand that was on his neck moved away. He watched, as if under a spell, as Nines’ raised his hand to his own lips, touching them gently as if he couldn’t believe he had kissed Gavin, and Gavin felt the air leave his lungs at the gesture.

“_ Nines _,” he whispered, and, finally giving up all pretenses, slid his arms around the android’s neck to pull him down for another kiss. And Gavin tembled, but god how he loved Nines, Nines who was here cleaning his kitchen after having done something incredibly thoughtful for him, and for a moment he forgot how to fear, and how to doubt, and the only things that existed were the two of them, and warmth, and the wonderful sensation of Nines against him, kissing him back.

* * *

Finally, the third important thing that happened that February was Nines’ birthday.

Nines’ birthday was the 18th of February, a date he himself had chosen and had a very hard time figuring out how to communicate to Gavin.

“Just...tell him,” Rin laughed, tossing her head back in joy. Since she’d returned from arranging the details of her accomodation at university she’d been in high spirits. She’d told Nines all about the campus and her courses and the people she had met with such enthusiasm that Nines felt his chest fill with excitement by proxy. 

However, with their parting looming close on the horizon, every moment they spent together --and they spent a lot of time together-- felt bittersweet. Nines had over a month left with his friend and he was determined to enjoy every possible second, fully understanding how difficult it would be to meet after she moved away.

“I cannot randomly say…”

“Why not?” she asked. She was wearing a bright red coat that contrasted sharply against the grey sleep of the library’s garden. Although the weather had been mild, the earth was still frozen, the plants patiently waiting for spring to bloom. 

A trickle of sadness touched Nines’ heart at the thought that Rin would not be here to see the garden she had so devotedly taken care of bloom again, but smiled past the feeling. As much as he resisted change, it was hard to truly resent it when his friend was so happy.

Sometimes, in the deep hours of the night, when the world was most quiet, Nines found he envied Rin’s bravery, because she was a person that looked unflinchingly forwards, her back straight as a needle, welcoming the future with arms wide open. 

And Nines...well.

He privately thought he would not be able to do so in the same circumstances. He wouldn’t be able to let Gavin go.

“Just say, _ Gavin, I decided to celebrate my birthday on February the 18th, would you like to celebrate with me? _” she said, mimicking a monotone, and Nines’ LED smiled, blue blue blue. “There’s no way this boyfriend of yours will say no.”

Nines didn’t need the warning to know he was overheating with both delight and embarrassment. After the fright that Felicia had given them, things with Gavin had been going well. He overheated everytime he remembered the warmth of Gavin’s lips, the way he went pliant under Nines’ touch, the softness of his expression.

Honestly, it was hard to control himself. The more time he spent with Gavin, the more he longed to touch him, and sometimes the urge to press him against a wall and kiss him until he was breathless was so strong that Nines had to manually rearrange his processes as not to give into the temptation.

Gavin was still skittish about touch, and Nines had promised not to pressure him.

It didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult to keep his hands to himself.

When he raised his eyes from where he had them fixed on his clasped hands on his lap, he met Rin’s knowing grin and he blushed, his LED taking a pink hue, caught between yellow and red.

In the end, however, he took Rin’s advice. 

It had been a cold morning of early February, barely a couple of days after Nines had been made Gavin’s partner. That morning, they had met early to check on and feed the cats, and afterwards Nines had insisted they go somewhere so Gavin could have breakfast.

The café Nines had guided Gavin into was warm and cozy. Its reviews marked it as a place with excellent coffee, something Nines thought Gavin would appreciate. However, across the table from him, Gavin looked tired, half asleep. He was always tired as of late, and although he tried to hide it from Nines, the android knew. He wished Gavin confided in him about what had been worrying him lately, but whenever he asked, Gavin would smile and reassure him it was nothing.

He waited until Gavin had finished half his mug of coffee --groaning in delight at the bitterness, so at least the reviews hadn’t lied-- to drop his news.

“I thought your birthday was in November,” Gavin said after Nines gracelessly blurted out what sounded more like an info dump than an invitation to celebrate together. It was a testament to Gavin’s understandment of Nines that he didn’t even blink at the information.

“I was indeed activated that month,” Nines dutifully answered. It was a sunny morning, so they were sitting near the window. When they had left the alley, Gavin had had Felicia on her leash, and so she was currently sprawled under Nines’ chair soaking the warmth of a stray sun beam that pooled in the floor. 

Around them, the café was pleasantly loud, the chatter of the people and the clinking of dishware a comforting sound between them. Every once in a while, someone stopped to stare and point and Felicia and Gavin grinned at the attention even as he made sure no one disturbed her.

“However, I do not consider it…” Nines continued. He frowned, struggling with the words. That he didn’t consider it living was the truth, although he didn’t know how to express it. Those months he spent locked in Cyberlife Tower and then New Jericho were the worst of his life, worse even than the lonely miserable ones that followed, so he refused to celebrate them in any way. Maybe, Nines thought, the memories would fade someday, like scars, and no longer hurt him when he recalled them. But he was not there yet. “I like to think my life started when I moved into my apartment. So I chose that date to celebrate it. Is that odd?”

“Of course not,” Gavin scoffed. He took a bite of the maple syrup soaked waffles and chewed, thoughtful. “And even if it was, there’s nothing wrong with choosing whatever birthday you fucking want to.”

Nines beamed at him. Gavin smiled in answer, lopsided and rough, and that was it.

That year, the 18th of February was a Saturday, and Nines was aware of the date since the clock struck midnight. He had agreed to meet Gavin, Margaret and Oliver at 10 am to go to the library, so Nines spent the following ten hours in a state of barely repressed excitement. He tried to read with moderate levels of success, and the only thing that got him through that night without vibrating out of his skin from excitement was #9, who had decided that Nines’ apartment was a warmer winter shelter than wherever else he used to use until then and often followed Nines home. 

More and more often of late, it became common for Nines to find the big cat waiting for him at the building’s door at night, when Nines returned from work. It became so usual that Nines had bought the cat the biggest, fluffiest bed he could find and placed it under the window, although #9 still prefered to curl on the android’s lap for hours at a time while he read.

That’s how Nines spent the first hours of his birthday, curled up in his green couch, bundled in a blanket with the big cat on his lap. It was an incredible improvement from the past year, that he had spent alone and miserable, and thus Nines could barely concentrate on his book, needing to look around the room to reassure himself of the difference.

Long gone was the empty room Nines had hated so much in the past. The little studio apartment looked, if tidy, lived in. It had furniture: a couch, and a side table and two stools he had recently bought so he and Rin could sit at the small kitchen counter when she visited. He had a bookshelf, the space half-taken by books and the other half with knicknacks he had gathered or the children had given him. The pretty violet Margaret had given him was blooming on his windowsill, and #9’s cat toys were strewn around the floor. On the counter, his newest purchase was neatly wrapped in an elegant CyberLife box, unopened.

It was indeed a very different room than it had been last year, and Nines couldn’t help but feel proud. It might seem like a small thing, to find things he loved, but it had been difficult and Nines felt grateful to be where he was. 

Right then, surrounded by things that reminded him of the people he loved, he felt like he could do anything.

That’s how Nines spent the night, the hours going by sweetly, and at ten o’clock he was already downstairs, #9 walking through the door before him to go outside and start his usual cat patrol of the neighborhood.

“Happy birthday!” someone yelled cheerfully, and that was all he registered before there were small arms wrapped around his waist, a mop of dark hair giving away the identity of his attacker.

“Thank you, Oliver,” Nines answered, returning the hug, and was greeted by the boy’s eyes sparkling up at him in reply.

“Happy birthday, Nines,” Margaret chuckled as Nines’ LED blinked blue.

Ah, Nines thought. It was nice.

It was a nice feeling, being acknowledged. For others to recognize that he was alive.

Before Nines could fully identify the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, the sound of steps on the pavement distracted him. With a rush of warmth, his systems recognized the steps as Gavin’s, and Nines eagerly turned to greet him. 

He must have blanked out when he saw him, because when he blinked again there was amusement dancing in Gavin’s eyes, and Oliver, still hugging Nines, was looking curiously back and forth between the two of them.

Gavin looked…

Nines breathed out, trying to aid his cooling systems.

Gavin looked good. In Nines’ opinion, the man was always handsome, but it was obvious Gavin had made an effort that day too. Just like on Valentine's day --when Nines had nearly short circuited when he saw him-- he had his hair combed back, and he was wearing those jeans that fit him like a glove. Furthermore, underneath the winter jacket, Nines could see the neck of a dark green button up, and Nines had never thought he had preference for clothing but oh, he did.

Gavin looked great, and all those black buttons made Nines want to peel him slowly out of that shirt, see the contrast the green would make against Gavin’s tanned skin.

Suddenly, he was keenly aware of the newly delivered package resting on his counter. At Nines’ request, Connor had been kind enough to share some of his experiences regarding the sexual attachments CyberLife was marketing for androids. Although Nines was not yet certain of his own preferences, it had certainly helped him to come to a decision.

The new components had been delivered only the day before, neatly packaged in a discreet and elegant box, but just the thought of owning them, coupled with the sight of Gavin looking like _ that _, made something hot and syrupy course through Nines’ circuits, the feeling too new for him to recognize as desire.

“Your LED is pink,” Oliver commented, helpfully, and had Nines been a human he would have made an undignified sound.

Thankfully, he was not, so he looked cool and collected when he looked down and petted the boy’s hair.

“It gets like that sometimes.”

Margaret’s knowing chuckle made him more embarrassed, if possible, but after a couple of seconds she took pity on him and called Oliver to her.

“How about we go ahead to the library?” she asked Oliver, and when the boy complained, she added, “That way, we can make sure everything’s ready for Mr Nines.”

The boy narrowed his eyes, thinking it over before sighing dramatically. “Okay,” he said, like he was making everybody a big favor, and then, under his breath. “Mr Nines wants to be alone with his boyfriend anyway.”

Margaret covered her mouth with one hand, trying to hide her laughter as she herded her grandson away. “See you at the library in a bit,” she told Nines, voice laded with mirth, and Nines noded, giving her a look he hoped came across as grateful.

A couple of awkward moments of silence passed by in which Nines couldn’t look at Gavin.

Then, when he finally felt calm down enough to do so without doing something he’d regret --like kissing him until either Gavin couldn’t breathe or he himself overheated-- he was delighted to notice Gavin was blushing too.

“So, hum,” the man cleared his throat. Now that he was closer, Nines’ delicate sensors picked up the scent of his cologne, and although Nines didn’t have any preference for smells, the association with Gavin was devastating. “You look great.”

“Oh,” Nines breathed in, slightly thrown out of balance. He had changed his usual blue jumper for a fitted turtleneck Connor had assured him looked good on him, and he mentally thanked his brother for it when he saw the way Gavin eyed him. Not that it was making it easier to keep his hands to himself, but the idea that Gavin might find him as attractive as he found him was like a shot of pleasure down his spine. “Thank you. You do as well.”

Another heartbeat of silence.

“Anyway,” Gavin said, pushing past the awkward, an ability Nines did not yet possess while embarrassed. “Happy birthday,” and presented Nines with a heavy-looking box prettily wrapped in metallic blue wrapping paper.

Nines received it, eyes sparking. This was his first birthday present ever, and he felt his thirium pump swell with joy because it was from Gavin.

“May I open it?” he asked, eagerly, and Gavin chuckled, eyes soft.

“It’s yours. You can do whatever you want with it.”

Nines did.

He opened it carefully, taking great care not to damage the pretty wrapping paper -- “Figures,” Gavin mumbled, looking Nines struggle with the tape-- delighted when he could see his gift even when he had guessed almost from the start what it was.

Books.

Nines stared.

There weren’t just any books. Awed, Nines ran a hand through the soft cover of _ The Hobbit _, the green leather like material beautifully engraved with an illustration of the Shire.

“_ Gavin _ ,” Nines whispered, looking over the rest of the books. _ The Lord of the Rings _ collection was beautifully bound, obviously expensive, the spines of the books aligning to make the shape of the White Tree of Gondor.

“I know those are your favorites, and I thought…” Gavin babbled, suddenly nervous. “Even if you already have them, this edition is pretty and like-- you’re always reading the ratty ones at my place, not that you are not welcome to them, but I…”

“Gavin,” Nines interrupted, more firmly. In a swift movement he closed the distance between them, and although the books were uncomfortable between them, he kissed Gavin to shut him up. It was not a sweet kiss at all. “I love them. Thank you.”

Gavin licked his lips. He looked dazed. “S-sure.”

It was with great effort that Nines didn’t lean down to kiss Gavin again, and if he put some distance between them it was because Nines felt too flustered to be able to control himself if they continued.

“Let me run and put these away? Then we can go to the library.”

Gavin noded, swallowing, and Nines turned around and climbed the stairs, two at a time, before he changed his mind. When he returned, having placed the books carefully and lovingly on his armchair, Gavin had already collected himself as well.

They walked to the library, first in silence and then talking about inconsequential things. The weather had turned cold again, but the sky was clear and the sun felt pleasant even though Nines had not any need for warmth like a human would. Beside him, Gavin was talking animatedly about something Tina had told him, and Nines couldn’t do anything else but soak in the moment, so seemingly small and unimportant, and cherish it.

They were at the library before long, and Nines was inwardly amused at the flurry of movement and whispered hushed noises that came from the garden. 

Before Nines could wonder where exactly he should head to, the main door or the library opened and Rin walked towards them, smiling brightly.

“Nines!” she said when she got close enough. Standing on tiptoes, she hugged her friend. “Happy Birthday!”

Nines returned the hug, and decided he wouldn’t mind having birthdays more often if it meant he got hugs from every single person he loved.

“Thanks,” he answered, his changing LED giving away what his face hid. 

“And you must be Detective Reed?” Rin asked Gavin, brightening up. “Nines has told me a lot about you,” she teased, smiling up at Nines. “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Remembering all of the embarrassing details and bits about Gavin he had shared with her, Nines wisely decided to say nothing.

Gavin, not having that problem, stepped forwards with a charming grin of his own. “You must be Rin,” he said, offering his hand for Rin to shake, which she enthusiastically did. “Nines has told me a lot about you too.”

“He’d better!” she answered, before gesturing towards the garden and saying in an unnaturally loud voice. “There is something very interesting in the garden! I wonder if you could help me with it?”

A pair of barely contained giggles gave the surprise away, if there ever was one. Either way, Nines followed Rin to the garden.

There was another burst of movement as the people ‘hiding’ burst into action.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” they shouted, the children’s voices overpowering the adults’.

LED shining pure blue, Nines surveyed the scene before him. Someone had dragged a small plastic table to the middle of the stone courtyard, to a place Rin had evidently cleared of flowerpots especially for the occasion, and covered it with a colorful tablecloth. On top of it rested what looked like a blue jello and a medium, also blue, cake, beside plastic cups and soft drinks.

A handmade banner with tons of glitter announced the occasion in uneven letters: 

*✧ ✰ ｡* **HAPPy BiRtDAY** Mr **NiNEs** *✧ ✰ ｡*

The people in the garden were clapping now, laughing and cheering as both Oliver and Cecil ran to Nines and began talking a mile a minute. Peter came forward, followed by a smiling Laura, to offer their congratulations. In the back, Margaret and Amelia were laughing, and Rin was at the door that connected the library to the garden, trying to convince some regulars that it was okay if they joined the party.

It was…

It was lovely.

Nines had already been enjoying his birthday, but this was...too much, almost. Suddenly, the emotion that had threatened to overwhelm him when Margaret and Oliver first offered their congratulations came back, unexpected. 

There were people in this world that loved him. He had found people that cared that he existed, that celebrated a year of his life like it was something precious, and although Nines had known his friends loved him, this more exuberant proof touched a lonely part he hadn’t known existed, healed something within him he hadn’t known was broken.

A gentle touch on his back startled him out of the small tsunami of feelings and, surprised, he looked at Gavin, who had discreetly rested his hand between Nines’ shoulder blades, the touch grounding.

“Is that cake I spy?” Gavin loudly asked Rin, and that had the virtue to redirect some of the attention away from Nines, especially the children’s.

Nines looked at Gavin, at a loss of words, touched by Gavin’s accurate read of his needs. 

“I can always spill a drink into myself if you need a diversion,” the man whispered, and Nines was almost overcome again, although this time by a wave of adoration.

“It won’t be necessary,” he answered, taking comfort for another moment from Gavin’s touch before he stepped forward and into the celebration.

The jello turned out to be, in fact, a thirium dessert of sorts, a birthday cake bought specifically for the androids. The blue cake was of something called blue velvet, sugary and fluffy, which the children particularly enjoyed for the bright color it painted their tongues.

The celebration winded down quickly because Laura and Peter (and Rin, although not officially) had to go back to work and because Cecil never did well with too much noise. Half an hour later there was only Rin, Amelia, Margaret and the children with Nines and Gavin. 

And maybe it was unfair, but Nines was surprised to see Gavin socialize with strangers. He had never noticed the polite charm Gavin displayed while talking with the women, the humor with which he received and answered Rin’s teasing. 

It was… astounding, to say the least, this side of Gavin’s, but somehow he was grateful that this polite distance was not what he had first known of him.

Strangely, the children, too, seemed enchanted with Gavin, if only going by the way they looked at him and whispered to each other.

It was finally Oliver who dared come closer, holding Cecil’s hand, who was for all intents and purposes hiding behind him. “Are you a detective?” he asked Gavin, and the man dropped into a crouch with ease, as if used to talk with small children.

“That’s correct,” Gavin said, and although Nines knew Gavin must recognize Oliver as the kid who fed chocolate to #1, he was glad he didn’t mention it. “Are you the ones helping Nines take care of the cats?”

“Yes!” Oliver answered, straightening his back under Gavin’s gaze. Cecil mumbled something, and Oliver translated, “Cecil says he helps too! Mr Nines has been teaching us.”

“Oh?” Gavin smirked, glancing at Nines with a raised eyebrow. “And is Mr Nines a good teacher?”

“Yeah. And I’m a good student,” Oliver assured him, at attention. A whisper. And then, “Cecil studies hard too!”

Gavin chuckled. There was something strange in his eyes as he gazed at the children, some sort of sorrow that seemed out of place, and Nines was about to intervene when Gavin spoke again.

“That’s good,” he told them. “Then I leave them to you, okay?”

“Yeah!”

The morning went fast after that. When everyone returned to their activities, Nines went into the library with them at Rin’s request. And then, when Rin thrust into his hands an illustrated copy of _ The Wind in the Willows _ and nudged him towards the children’s section, he couldn’t refuse. Both Oliver and Cecil were looking at Nines with pleading eyes, and Gavin was there, and this was something Nines had wanted to do for a long time.

“What if I’m bad at it?” he asked Rin, concerned, but her answer was to swing the old neon apron over his head and point him in the right direction.

“You already know the voices,” she shrugged, and left him to his own devices.

It turned out the children didn’t mind if Nines’ voices were a bit off at the beginning. He got confidence the more he read, and it wasn’t long until he was as enthralled in the adventures of Mole, Rat and Toad as the children were.

When the hour ended, Nines asked some follow up questions to the children, who enthusiastically answered, and all in all, he was having so much fun that for once he didn’t notice Gavin’s intense gaze as he watched him.

“See? You’re great at it,” Rin said, patting his back, and for a moment, a hint of bitterness touched Nines’ heart at the thought that this could be his work, something he got to do everyday. He had been ignoring the feeling, but the truth was that he’d missed the library. He’d missed the silence, and the people, and the tasks, so much more wonderful that the awful stress of the DPD.

“You okay?” Gavin asked him a little later.

“Yes,” he answered. “I just missed the library,” and because he trusted Gavin, and he was too wrapped up in his own feelings, he told him about the things he missed and how much more wonderful than the DPD his library job had been, and he didn’t notice the way Gavin’s face shuttered, the smile on his face losing his spark and turning more and more polite each word.

When they left the library, Gavin was joking. Later on, when he looked back, Nines would regret that moment, because although he noticed Gavin’s voice was a bit too shrill, and his smile a tad too cheerful, he was so drunk from the joy of the day that he dismissed it. 

He dismissed it, and although Nines didn’t know it yet, that one moment, when they were finally alone, the world quiet around them, when he had Gavin all to himself to stop him and ask what was wrong, would come back to haunt him in the future.

* * *

The second half of Nines’ birthday took place later that day, in an android friendly bar Connor had specifically chosen for the purpose.

Gavin and Nines had parted in the afternoon, Gavin to take a nap and Nines to spend some time with Connor. He’d invited Gavin to come with him, of course, but if there was one thing Gavin was certain was that he was not ready to do it was to be in the same room as Connor and Hank without a buffer other than Nines.

When Gavin woke up from his nap, he was in an odd mood.

He felt hurt somehow, raw like a wound had reopened. He had drawn the blinds of the living room down as to sleep better, and in the semi darkness, he placed his head on his hands and suppressed the urge to cry.

The image of Nines in the library, surrounded by people that loved him, was engraved in his mind. 

He had known, before, that Nines hated police work. But the difference between how he was in the precinct and how he was in the library was so vast that it left Gavin speechless. 

So _ that _ was how Nines looked like when he was happy.

_ For you _, Nines’ letter had read, and for a moment Gavin hated himself so much he wanted to scream. 

He was making Nines miserable. Choosing Gavin made Nines miserable.

It took him a long time to compose himself, but when 6 pm hit on the clock, Gavin was dutifully at the address Nines had sent him. The bar was smallish and modern, with neon signs all over the walls. Still, it was blessedly quiet, and Gavin knew Connor must have taken Nines’ preferences into consideration when choosing a place.

Connor was the one to spot them from the end of the room when he entered, and he was the one that drew Nines’ attention to him.

“Gavin!” Nines said, delighted as if he had not seen Gavin in ages, and something in Gavin’s chest twisted even as he smiled, his face a perfect mask. Beside Connor, Hank was nursing a glass of something that didn’t look alcoholic, and although Gavin had known the man would be here, something cold ran through him all the same at the sight of him.

Gritting his teeth, he took the stool beside Nines, thankful when Rin moved over because it meant he wouldn’t have to talk to Hank.

And as the evening went on, Gavin’s mask was perfect. Collins and a couple of people from the precinct arrived a bit later, and after a while, Tina too arrived with Polly. Gavin joked with everyone, laughing at other people’s teasing, and pretended he didn’t feel Hank’s eyes watch his every move. 

Around his neck, the St Christopher's medal felt like a weight, choking him, the silver biting his skin, and Gavin hated the weight, afraid Hank would notice but too much of a coward to take it off.

Gavin was relieved when, after a couple of hours, Rin organized some sort of game in which the others cheerfully took part of. The androids dragged Tina and Hank with them too, and it gave Gavin the opportunity to retreat, offering a half-drunk beer as an excuse when Nines turned to him to ask if he wanted to play too.

“In a bit,” he grinned, putting as much charm as he could in his voice. “My beer is already warm, I’d better finish it before it gets hot.”

Nines looked like he wanted to argue, but Rin --bless her, Gavin was liking her more and more by the second-- chose that moment to swipe in and take Nines away, and Gavin winked and laughed for good measure.

When he was alone, he relaxed his shoulders, feeling the ache of the tension leave him for a moment. He was so caught in the relief that it took him a full minute to realize Connor had not left with the others and was watching him from a couple of seats away.

Uncertain, Gavin raised his lukewarm beer towards him in greeting, a peace offering of sorts.

And Connor seemed to take it as one too, because he left his high stool to go sit next to Gavin. 

“I am glad you could make it, Detective,” Connor said, polite and respectful. This was pretty much the first time they had talked after the evidence room, and Gavin wouldn’t have needed to be a detective to notice the assessing look in Connor’s eyes.

He was measuring Gavin, perhaps trying to find ways he didn’t deserve Nines. And even though Gavin approved of Connor’s behaviour, he couldn’t fail this test because, deserving of Nines or not, Connor was important to him and Gavin was not too dense not to know how it would hurt Nines if the two of them didn’t get along.

“Yeah, well,” Gavin answered, leaning back on his chair and trying for casual. “I couldn’t let Nines down, could I?”

“No, I suppose you couldn’t,” Connor said, once again thoughtful, and it was all Gavin could do to pretend that his heart wasn’t beating like mad on his chest at the assessment. “I admit I was surprised when he told me of your acquaintance,” he admitted. “I had…doubts.”

Gavin grimaced. “Look...“

“But I’m glad I was wrong,” Connor interrupted him. “I am glad for your presence in Nines’ life. Your acquaintance has been good for him.”

“I—what?” 

This was not the way Gavin had expected this conversation to go by far.

“Does it surprise you, Detective?” Connor smirked, the little shit he was. “Nines didn’t break out of his deviancy on his own. Markus and I found him in the basement of CyberLife Tower. It was us who activated him, who helped him deviate when he wouldn’t. There wasn’t a before or after for him, nothing to measure against what he did or did not want to be. In his early days, he was dangerously aimless. He would fall back into his main program sometimes, enough that he was a danger to others.”

Gavin frowned, too disconcerted to hide his reaction. Connor’s eyes, however, weren’t on him. He was looking at Nines, who in the middle of a circle of people was doing something that only very generously could be considered mimicking. Connor’s expression was dark and troubled as he watched, and Gavin remembered the things Nines had told him: being locked in a room, being dangerous, being defective.

His lips became a thin line as he pressed them together.

“And even when he got well enough, the truth is I was against him moving on his own. It’s not like I was so experienced I could give him sound advice, but being alone didn’t strike me as a good thing for him. And it wasn’t. Until he met you.” Connor turned his head towards Gavin then, chocolate eyes inescrutable. He looked nothing like Nines. It was astounding how they could share a face and not look anything alike. “I would really like to meet Felicia sometime.”

Gavin swallowed, speechless.

“So please keep being his friend,” Connor finished, and in a graceful movement of the kind only androids were capable of, he left Gavin in favor of joining Nines’ group, who welcomed him with cheers.

It was Tina who approached him next, having taken Connor’s inclusion an opportunity to escape.

“So what was that?” she asked, ordering a beer and lightly elbowing Gavin. “He gave you the shovel talk?”

“Fuck, Tina, no,” Gavin mumbled, frowning.

Connor’s little speech had been strangely informative, Gavin thought, watching Nines’ LED shine blue as he laughed with the other androids.

And, like puzzle pieces falling into place, with dread, Gavin felt like he should have known.

Nines had been lonely. 

This was not the first time Gavin had thought about it, realized how young Nines truly was. Barely a year old, thrown alone into the world. Nines was so young, and good, and he’d been so starved of affection that he’d latched into the first person that had more or less given it to him.

To him, Gavin was...a first love, an outlet for his newly discovered feelings, and not…

It wouldn’t last. 

It wouldn’t last because Nines was bright, and beautiful, and kind, and sooner or later he would find someone that deserved him, someone loving and good, not someone broken like Gavin, and he would leave. Surely, he would do it gently, not suddenly like his ex, but he would leave and Gavin would be alone again.

Gavin had always been selfish. He had been hurt too many times, and so he had gotten used to taking what he needed with his own hands. But Nines...his relationship with Nines was not like that. Nines was kind, and gentle, and good. And Gavin...

Gavin loved him. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to see him happy. And Gavin knew, just looking back at his past behavior and the stress it caused Nines to work at the DPD, that he was just not the person that could do it.

He wanted...god he wanted Nines to be happy. He wanted, for once in his life, to keep something this pure clean, unbroken, uncorrupted by the dirt that rot all things Gavin touched.

When Nines’ feelings for Gavin faded, he wanted to be able to let the android go with a smile, so they could at least keep being friends.

Friends.

He didn’t want to be friends, didn’t think he could, but it was about what Nines deserved. 

Nines deserved everything.

“Gav, what’s wrong?” Tina asked, alarmed, but Gavin brushed her aside, looking for Connor.

“Nothing is wrong, okay?” he lied, and when he spied Connor leaving the bar, he stood, ready to take the opportunity for something he should have done long ago. “Wait, I need—” he mumbled to himself, following Connor outside. “Connor!”

At Gavin’s voice, Connor turned around, surprise clear on his face.

“Detective Reed? Is something wrong?”

“No. No, I just wanted—” Gavin steeled himself, swallowing the humiliation and shame to grit out, “I wanted to apologize. For the way I behaved. Before.” Remembering the despective things he had called Connor made him fist his hands until it hurt, his nails biting into the soft flesh of his palms. “It was terrible of me, and I’m sorry.”

Connor’s mouth opened in a perfect “o”, and Gavin clenched his jaw, awaiting his verdict.

The tension between them was so thick that they both startled when the bar’s door opened, Gavin by openly flinching and Connor with his LED blinking red for a second.

“Is there a problem here?” Hank asked, and no, Gavin was not dealing with this, now or ever.

“Oh, no!” Connor said, turning to Hank, but Gavin did not stay to listen to the android’s explanation. He walked past Hank and inside again, sat beside Tina, and emptied his beer in one long drag.

“What was that about?” Tina asked, confused.

“Unfinished business,” Gavin answered, vaguely. “Look, I’m not feeling this, so I’m going home now, okay?”

“Gavin?” she called, but Gavin was already beside Nines, making excuses to leave early and smiling all the while.

“Besides, it’s not like we can’t hang out whenever,” Gavin lied, voice deceptively light, but biting the inside of his cheek so hard it bled because he could not deal otherwise. “It’s your birthday for another three hours,” he added, softly. “Enjoy.”

Gavin made it home in a daze. Although he was not drunk, he didn’t remember much of the trip, only becoming aware of himself when the door closed behind him.

“Damn it,” he cursed. From somewhere in the darkness, Fliss meowed, concerned. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked himself. “Smile, damn it!”

And then, the last of his strength giving in, Gavin doubled over and cried.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gavin Is Not Okay. 
> 
> And things were going so well...


	9. Not Wrong / Gavin

The 21st of March came and went but the promised spring didn’t arrive. A thick layer of frost greeted the spring equinox that year, and winter in Detroit, that had been mild so far, didn’t give a sign of ending.

It was a miserable, cloudy day when Nines took Rin and Laura to the airport. He’d known saying goodbye would be difficult, but it happens sometimes that, even if we know something must come to pass, it doesn’t make it easier to bear when the time comes.

It was so for Nines. Just before Rin went through security to board her plane, he pressed his forehead against Rin’s for a long time, trying to gather the courage to let her go with a smile. 

In the end, it wasn’t necessary. Rin offered her hand to him, a silent request to sync, and in a loud airport in Detroit the friends synched for the first time. And it was strange because Rin’s feelings and thoughts were warm and loving, but what Nines found comfort in was in the sadness she felt at the parting.

There was never going to be enough time in the world for Nines to say goodbye to Rin, so when they ended their sync, after promises and reassurances and plans for keeping in touch, he stepped discreetly away, both to give Rin a Laura privacy in their goodbye and to compose himself.

Their goodbye, however, was different to what Nines expected. They smiled, and kissed, and hugged-- but they both were laughing like this was a joyous occasion, and after Rin was no longer visible, having walked through security towards her gate, when he dared to peek at Laura, Nines found the woman was smiling. There was savage pride in Laura’s expression as she looked towards the place Rin had disappeared to, and her apparent detachment rankled and soothed Nines at the same time.

There were plenty of things he wanted to ask Laura --how could she smile, when she was separating from someone she loved? Wasn’t she afraid of not seeing Rin every day? Didn’t she hate it?-- but even in his head he was aware how badly these questions could come across, and decided he was not calm enough that he could formulate them without giving offense.

So, although Nines longed to ask, he didn't. Still, he was happy he didn’t have to make the trip back to the city all by himself. Rin and Laura made the way back to the library in companionable silence, and when Nines parked the car in front of it, they both spent a couple of minutes sitting inside, staring at the building.

The silence that descended upon them when Nines turned off the engine was sweet. Heavily, it settled around them, and when Laura’s dark lashes lowered, Nines knew she felt it as well-- the absence of the loved one. 

In Rin’s presence, there was never silence. 

It seemed a momentous thing, an instant of greatest importance, and Nines swallowed, overcome by emotion. Outside, the library looked as always, patrons moving inside as they looked for books. Maybe that glimpse of bright blue was Peter, doing his job as usual. Emma should be there as well, and other people that went on with their lives, unaware something had changed.

Nines’ LED was red.

“You okay?” Laura asked after a while, voice low and kind. Nines swallowed when he looked at her, because he knew what Rin meant to her and he didn’t want to burden her with his feelings.

In silence, Nines lied, nodding yes.

Laura regarded him for a long time, and Nines was grateful she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she rested her hand on his wrist, a gesture of support, and bowed her head in acceptance.

“See you soon, yes?” she asked, although it wasn’t a question. And Nines agreed because he had promised Rin as well, and he wanted to cry at this evidence that his friend was taking care of him even when she was not physically there.

“I promise.”

* * *

Nines worked half a shift that day, apart from Gavin because they had been assigned a new case and Gavin was out, and when he was done, he didn’t even pretend he was going home. 

It was late when Gavin opened the door. He was already in his pajamas, but he took one look at Nines and immediately guided him inside.

Gavin's hands were gentle as they divested Nines of his clothing. Soon, he was dressed in soft flannel, the fabric pleasant against his synthetic skin. Gavin’s voice was affectionate as he maneuvered them into the couch, arranging Nines’ head to rest on his chest on top of his heart, and Nines’ LED blinked amber because Gavin was always like this, kind and tender when it was about Nines’ well being, that being the only time he didn’t shy away from touch.

Still, although that was something Nines had wanted to talk about for a while, now was not the time. Instead, he buried himself in the comfort Gavin was so selflessly giving him, in his scent, and his hands, and his heartbeat and his arms, and allowed himself to shake through the sadness of the separation.

This was the first time Nines had parted from someone he loved after all.

“It’s okay, let it all out,” Gavin kept mumbling into Nines’ hair, again and again. “Distance won’t make her love you any less, but it’s okay to feel sad. Let it out.”

Although he knew he must be heavy, Nines stayed in that position, listening to Gavin’s heartbeat, for a long time. Gavin was already asleep when a message pinged into his HUB, bright and merry.

_ All settled in! _ 😊🎉 💖 

It was an email, and the subject was so _ Rin _ that Nines smiled, his LED finally settling into blue for the first time that day.

He’d miss his friend. He already did. But as he read Rin’s detailed account of the beginning of her adventure, Nines felt happy for her.

_ Distance won’t make her love you any less. _

On his ear, Gavin’s heartbeat thumped, evenly, and his words, that Nines hadn’t been able to fully listen at first, finally sank in, closing some cracks in his heart like water drank by the thirsty earth. 

It was hard, parting. It was difficult, and it hurt, but Rin had attached photos, and she looked incredibly happy, and Nines would never begrudge the separation if it meant she’d get to smile like that and follow her dreams.

Something warm and soft like a small flame kindled somewhere in his mind, but before Nines could grasp it, it faded, too frail to be looked at yet.

With an unnecessary sigh, Nines let it go. Instead, he looked at the pictures again. It was a bittersweet, precious feeling that bloomed in his chest: love and melancholy and gratefulness for the time they had together.

The future scared Nines. It scared him because there was no certainty that there wouldn’t be another parting. 

He didn’t welcome change. Nines considered himself happy, and wanted things to stay as they were: with everyone he loved in one place, so he could spend his life with Gavin and the cats and the children and the library people forever.

But even so, when he saw Rin’s radiant face, despite his personal feelings, it was hard to think that it was such a terrible thing.

_ Are you okay? _ Laura had asked, and Nines had lied. 

He wasn’t there yet. But going through the photos one more time, he truly believed that he would be.

* * *

“Fuck you! You’ll pay for this!” the murderer yelled at Gavin. Nines tensed, LED red, all protocols ready to defend Gavin if for some odd chance the other man got free of the two officers that were guiding him to the police car.

Gavin, however, wasn’t bothered. He was watching the scene with his arms crossed over his chest, but other than that, his body language was relaxed. Shoulders loose, heartbeat even.

He didn’t raise to the criminal’s taunt, and instead he watched until the patrol car was well out of sight, radiating what could only be described as satisfaction.

He had reason to: it had been his hunches, those leaps of intuition that Nines found so extraordinary, that had led to the arrest of the criminal. 

Working with Gavin was not what Nines had expected. It was not like he had not known Gavin was good at his job. Even when he was Chris Miller’s partner, more often than not out patrolling and not in the precinct, Gavin’s work ethic was noticeable. He and the now detective Pearson had an above average percentage of arrests, and even though Gavin wasn’t the most popular person on the precinct, when other detectives needed an extra pair of eyes, it would often be Gavin they asked.

Still, Nines had never seen Gavin in action, and thus he spent the first two weeks or so in a state of awe, because the detective Reed that solved crimes was a completely different person from the Gavin Reed that wandered his apartment in his pajamas, hair messy, when he couldn’t sleep.

Detective Reed was a harsh man, with a sharp tongue and a forcefulness that had startled Nines at first. Gone was Gavin’s thoughtfulness, the way he seemed insecure sometimes, careful of his words. This man read people with an accuracy that was scary, talked to them disregarding their feelings, using his knowledge of them for his own advantage.

Nines had a hard time deciding what he thought regarding this new side of Gavin. First, because he surprised himself by overheating the first time Gavin talked to him as the detective, voice hard and commanding. He froze for a few seconds, taken aback by both the change and his own reaction, and Gavin of course noticed because his expression softened a little.

“You alright there, tin man?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, and it was the familiar nickname that snapped Nines out of his reverie.

That night, when Nines got home, he couldn’t resist testing the new genital component he’d bought. He had wanted to wait to test it with Gavin, but his curiosity was too strong, and the idea of Gavin guiding him through the motions using that voice _ \--ordering _ him how to touch himself-- was too much for him to resist. 

The pleasure that the genital component gave him was very different from the one he got from fingering his cables, but it was good, if a bit messy. He definitely wouldn’t be wearing the component everyday, but still a very pleasurable experience.

However, as the days went by, another, less enjoyable thought grew on Nines’ mind.

Gavin was _ good _ at his job. Great even. And Nines…

“Good job, Reed, Nines,” Fowler congratulated them when they returned to the precinct after the arrest. They still had reports to write, but the evidence was all neatly filed, ready to follow the man to his trial.

Gavin smirked, all bravado, obviously enjoying the praise. It had been their first case together, and as Nines finished writing the report of the murderer’s arrest, he couldn’t help a cold unease gripping his insides, clawing his way up to nest around his heart.

He’d been useless.

Nines was the one that had the protocols for it --the best protocols, even among the RKs-- and yet…

It had been Gavin who’d taken the lead. Gavin, the one who talked to people, who won the trust of a witness, the one who got the information. Nines had been beside him, of course, helped him deduct things, but in the end, he was left with the uncomfortable sensation that Gavin would have solved the crime even without him.

He’d been useless.

_ Defective _, some hidden part of him whispered, a small ugly voice that he hadn’t heard in a long time, and thought long lost.

But right then, Gavin stretched like a cat, yawning as he rolled his shoulders to let go the tension that had been accumulating for days.

Nines had been assigned to the desk in front of Gavin, and that meant that he always had the man within sight. When he looked up from the computer screen, Gavin was already watching him, resting his head on one hand and a small smile on his lips, eyes twinkling.

“Good job, detective” Gavin drawled. Slowly, his smile grew into a playful smirk, but despite the tease in his voice and expression, there was a sincerity in the words that made Nines’ thirium pump buzz like a bee in his chest. “Congrats on your first solved case.”

And like that, all doubts melted from Nines’ mind. He was doing this for Gavin, so he could protect him, and he had not been wrong in his choice.

“We should celebrate,” Gavin proposed, attentively watching Nines for any sign of approval. And Nines…

Nines didn’t want to.

For some reason, he felt tired in a way he hadn’t been for a long time. What he wanted was to go home, read, and forget everything until morning.

But Gavin’s expression was hopeful, and he wasn’t dense enough not to notice several other people’s eavesdropping on their conversation. It was tradition, after all, for officers and detectives to celebrate their triumphs together.

“That would be amenable,” Nines conceded at last, and knew he had made the right choice when the mood in the office around him shifted, became more festive. Nines saw Gavin grab his phone and dash for safety, under the excuse of letting the others know, just before Hank and Connor stopped by his desk to congratulate him.

As they talked, Nines’ thoughts couldn’t help but wander to Gavin.

Connor had told him how Gavin had apologized, so it surprised him that the man was still running from Connor and Hank. 

With a pang, he remembered the photo he had found between the pages of one of Hank’s books during Christmas, the same photo Gavin had hidden in a shoebox in his closet, together with things that belonged to Gavin’s ex.

Had Gavin and Hank been together at some point? Nines wondered, the novel thought taking him by surprise. However, the photo had been dated with a year in which, if what he knew of Hank was true, Hank had been married, his son recently born.

“So, you’ll go?” Hank asked, and because Nines had divided his processes to both think and pay attention to the conversation, he knew what Hank was asking.

“I’ll see you both there,” he answered, and ignored Connor’s curious stare.

Indeed Nines arrived at the bar together with Gavin later that evening. Some of their colleagues were already there, and cheered when they entered. For a couple of hours, Nines could do nothing else but receive the congratulations of people he barely knew, and he thought that in other situation it might have been agreeable-- but in that moment, sitting beside Gavin who was loudly laughing at every joke, he couldn’t help but feel like he was a fraud, like he was deceiving everyone.

He did not deserve the congratulations. Gavin had done everything, and Nines-- he’d just been there for the ride.

But it was worth it, he thought as he walked Gavin to his door.

Worth it, because when they said goodbye, Gavin tilted his head for a kiss and Nines obliged, overwhelmed by the chemical analysis of the alcohol --well under the limit, Gavin didn’t drink much-- and DNA and all things purely Gavin.

Worth it, because Gavin moaned low in his throat when Nines wrapped him in his arms to pull him closer, and for several eternities Nines got lost in Gavin’s warmth, and the delicious friction of his tongue, and the way Gavin always kissed him with both tenderness and an edge of something desperate, like he would never get another chance to do so.

Worth it, because Gavin’s voice was breathy and raw when he said good night to Nines, and even in the darkness of the street he could see the blush high on the man’s cheeks.

Yes. It was worth it, and he had not been wrong choosing this path.

* * *

And it was strange, because at last, since that terrible day in which Gavin had returned home late from an undercover mission, wounded and exhausted, Nines found that everything was going the way he wanted.

He was in a relationship with Gavin, and even if things were going slowly, Nines couldn’t be happier. Also, after all of the stressful months he’d spent working as a police officer with Chris Miller, he was finally Gavin’s partner.

Things were finally as Nines wanted.

They were.

And yet...

“Nines,” Margaret whispered one evening, after Nines had finished updating her about the past few weeks. One of the disadvantages of being a detective is that he kept odd hours, and that made it difficult for him to consistently visit Margaret and Oliver, who kept very ordered and predictable schedules. “You don’t look happy.”

“I’m tired,” Nines immediately answered, the lie falling easily from his lips.

Margaret frowned, concerned etched in every millimeter of her face. 

She looked like she wanted to say something, and was struggling with herself whether or not to say it. Her eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s as they bore in Nines’ face, looking for something, and in the end Nines didn’t know what she saw that made her own expression soften.

“I’m here for you,” she said in the end, and she put her cup of tea down to rest a hand over Nines’ in silent reassurance. “If you ever need to talk, or vent, I’ll be here to listen.”

Nines nodded, relieved, overwhelming gratefulness washing over him. Things were fine. He’d made the right choice. He just didn’t want to talk about it.

Thankfully, before the silence could get awkward or Margaret could read anything else into Nines’ expression, they were interrupted by a high pitched wail that came from the other side of the flat.

“No, Sami! Sami, noooo!” Oliver scolded, giggling. “_ No! _ Nana said you cannot sleep with me!”

Nines turned just in time to see the boy walk out of his room in Iron Man pajamas, carrying #1 in his arms. In the time that had passed since Oliver had accidentally given him chocolate, #1 had gotten fat. He looked round, well fed as he was now that Oliver doted on him everyday, and he flopped lazily on the ground, tummy up, when the boy placed him on the floor of the living room.

“You’re the laziest cat ever!” Oliver giggled, and #1 purred loudly in agreement.

However, as lazy as he looked, he stood up the second Oliver turned his back to go into his room, getting between the boy’s ankles, very evidently determined to go wherever Oliver was going.

“I already told you, Sami, no!”

Confused, Nines looked at Margaret for guidance, but the woman was smiling, watching over the scene with fond amusement like it was an everyday thing, which perhaps it was.

“You gave him a name,” Nines said at last, because he felt that it was a subject that needed to be addressed.

“Yeah,” Oliver answered, distracted as he was trying to close the door to his room in the cat’s face. “I like the detective, but #1 is a dumb name.”

Undaunted, the orange cat dropped himself on the floor dramatically again, in such a way that it made it impossible for Oliver to close the door on him. The boy groaned as he knelt to pick the cat up again to move him out of the way.

From across the table, Margaret chuckled lowly.

“Sami?” Nines questioned, watching as Oliver carried the car further this time, placed him on the windowsill. In his arms, the orange cat looked very big, and it was obvious he weighed enough that Oliver found him heavy.

“Yeah,” the boy panted, opening the window to tempt the cat with freedom. “His name is Samuel Beckett, but it’s too long to say all the time.”

Nines’ LED blinked, the silence stretching a couple of seconds as the cat looked at the outside world with utmost indifference.

Then, “You named him after a writer?”

“I think so? Dunno, I was just reading names from Nana’s books and he liked that one,” Oliver answered, slowly backing up from the window. However, when he was ready to dash back into his room, the cat jumped from the windowsill to rub against the boy’s legs again.

For the first time, Nines was grateful that his face didn’t give anything away because never in his life he had wanted to laugh more than at that moment. Across the table, Margaret was hiding the lower half of her face in her cup of tea, apparently facing the same dilemma.

“It’s a good name,” Nines praised, at a loss of what to do, and both the cat and the boy preened, full of pride. Nines’ LED blinked bright blue on his temple.

Suddenly, Margaret clapped, making both Oliver and Sami jump and look at her. “All right, time for bed,” she ordered, and Nines watched with amusement as Sami didn’t follow Oliver this time when the boy dashed forward to kiss both Nines and his grandmother good night and then back into his room. “They do this every night,” she confided to Nines with a fond smile.

Nines raised an eyebrow at Sami, who was sitting forlornly in the middle of the living room, where Oliver had left him.

“Is that so?”

“Oliver asked me to let him keep the cat,” Margaret explained. “And at this point I think I’m going to say yes. Just look at him,” she said, pointing at Sami. The cat was staring at Oliver’s door with a look of such heartbreak that Nines immediately stood to take him in his arms. 

Surprised, Sami looked up at Nines, as if measuring him, and Nines paused. And after a few seconds of assessing each other, the cat honest to god _ sighed _, and curled on Nines’ lap, looking resigned to not cuddling with the person he wanted.

Margaret laughed.

“That cat’s a devil,” she said. “But he adores Oliver. He sits at the door to wait for him to come back from school. You can see his eyes light up when Oliver’s near,” it was Margaret who sighed this time. “I would have to be heartless to keep them apart.”

Eyes warm, Nines stroked Sami’s orange fur and smiled with his LED.

The situation with Sami, Oliver and Margaret lifted Nines’ spirits enough to carry him through a couple of weeks. It was a good period, where things seemed to settle for him. He got used to chatting with Rin late at night when humans were asleep, and Nines felt, as he got used to the job, that he finally was being useful to Gavin.

So, even if he still felt that awful cold in his insides sometimes, things were going well enough that he almost forgot the fear, the anxiousness and the repulsion he felt at the way his programming kicked in sometimes, scanning his surroundings without his permission.

He was feeling in high spirits the morning that Captain Fowler called them to his office. He was somber as he debriefed them, giving Gavin a note with a name and an address.

“As soon as possible,” the Captain added, and Gavin stood immediately.

It took them fifteen minutes to get to the address the Captain had given them, and when they arrived there were already police officers outside, the entrance of the modest building closed off with police tape. 

Both Nines and Gavin showed their badges when they got close enough, identifying themselves, and listened to the ghastly details of what they’d find inside.

“John Bennett, 32. Had a night shift he didn’t show up to,” the officer informed them. “The neighbors heard some weird noises and called the cops.”

Apprehension twisted Nines’ wires at the explanation. They were walking a long hallway, and their destination was marked by an open door near the end, guarded by a couple of policemen. Nines’ delicate sensors could already perceive something in the air, a sickly stench of organic material, and he desperately wanted to stop, gather himself. He didn’t want to enter that apartment, didn’t want to see what was inside, but for once Gavin didn’t notice when Nines’ step faltered, and so he followed because he had to.

He had to protect Gavin.

Nines’ LED was a rainbow as he stepped inside.

Immediately, he stiffened, almost overwhelmed by the information. His LED turned and turned, and Nines struggled with his programming, trying to turn off all the warnings that were flooding his HUB.

“...not sure what happened,” someone said, from afar and Nines gasped, pulling air in to cool himself down when his mouth opened without his consent.

“There are no traces of forced entry,” Nines heard himself say, and he hated it, he hated the indifference of his own voice, how he could not stop talking as his programming reconstructed the crime from all the hints scattered through the room. “Mr Bennett must have let the murderer inside. They argued, and fought, and Mr Bennett defended himself.” Data points, so many data points, marks in the walls and fingerprints and broken things, a trail that led to the kitchen.

“Nines?” Gavin asked, and Nines wanted to reach for him, to ask for help, but he couldn’t. 

“Mr Bennett was knocked unconscious,” he continued, but wanted to close his eyes, wanted to stop watching the preconstruction, wanted it to stop, to stop, to stop. “There was a second person. He let someone else in,” there were marks on the floor, the mark of a steel toed boot. Information. Data points. “They...they tied Mr Bennett down.”

“Nines!” Gavin said again. The overheating warnings took over Nines’ HUB as he struggled, because there was so much blood, and he didn’t want to look into the bedroom, he didn’t want to know what the criminals had done to this man, he hated it, he wanted the preconstruction to stop, he wanted to stop watching, he didn’t want this, he didn’t want to _ know…! _ “Nines, stop what you’re doing and look at me god damned it, _ that’s an order _!”

Like a puppet that had been cut off from its strings, Nines swayed as Gavin’s voice cut like a knife through his systems, ending the preconstruction. The red lines finally vanished from his vision, letting him see only Gavin’s concerned eyes.

“Gavin,” Nines choked out, because now that the preconstruction was over, he was left with the crushing weight of the anguish of what he had witnessed, and the shame and disappointment at his behavior. Connor did this all the time, why couldn't _ Nines _ deal with a simple preconstruction?

“Nines, tell me, where are we?” Gavin asked, voice calm, and Nines blinked, thrown off his loop of panic by the strange question.

“At the-- the apartment--there was a--”

“No, where are we right now?” Gavin pressed, and perhaps sensing how lost Nines’ felt, he brushed his thumbs through Nines’ cheekbones. 

Nines’ LED jumped. He had not been aware of Gavin’s touch.

“Good, yes, come back to me, you’re doing so well,” Gavin soothed. Then, strangely, “What color is the sky?”

Immediately Nines looked up, expecting to see a white ceiling, and he was surprised to find the blue of the sky over his head.

They were outside.

For the first time since the preconstruction let him go, he noticed his surroundings. They were at a corner of the building, away from the main entrance, hidden from prying eyes. Nines breathed deeply, not because he needed to but to analyze the air, and indeed there was nothing out of the ordinary. Only concrete, and dust, and smog and everything that made up Detroit’s air.

“Blue,” he mumbled, and felt his stress levels drop enough that he could think again. It was over. “Blue.”

“Yes,” Gavin accepted, and when Nines looked back at him, the man lightly bumped their foreheads together, unknowingly mimicking the gesture of love that Nines shared with Rin. “Hey there, tin man,” Gavin said, softly. “Welcome back.”

It was only then that Nines was finally able to move again. He wrapped his arms around Gavin and held him close, ashamed of his own reaction but needing the comfort too much. 

Gavin allowed himself to be held, soothingly rubbing Nines’ back and murmuring soft nonsense in his ear.

“Was this your first time seeing a body?” Gavin asked after a while, a relevant question because there hadn’t been a body present in their first case, only a coroner’s report.

Although he didn’t want to, Nines finally let Gavin go and nodded.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Gavin said, face twisting with self-loathing. “I didn’t know. I should have…”

“Gavin,” Nines interrupted. “I’m programmed for this,” he said, through gritted teeth. “I did not know I would have this reaction, so there was no way you could have anticipated it either,” the half-lie was bitter on Nines’ tongue, but he swallowed it down because it was his fault for being defective, for not telling Gavin about this peculiarity of his, because he was an RK, the android with the best detective software in existence, and what did it say about him that he panicked looking at a crime scene? 

Suddenly, he felt a paralyzing need to hide, for Gavin to stop looking at him. He didn’t want Gavin to see this part of him, didn’t want him to think him useless.

“I don’t believe it will happen again,” Nines lied once more, because he could not allow it to happen again. His mission was to protect Gavin, and he could not do it if he panicked again. So he wouldn’t.

“You…” Gavin began, unconvinced.

“Trust me,” Nines said, firmly. 

Gavin startled a little at his tone of voice, instinctively at attention, and watched Nines intensely for a moment, as if he could sense the lie. For a second, it looked like Gavin wanted to say something, and with an unpleasant jolt Nines realized he’d seen the exact same expression in Margaret’s face before. Someone not daring to say what they thought to him.

However, before Nines could fully analyze the implication, he was distracted by the strange look of hurt that crossed Gavin’s face, almost too quick for Nines to catch, before Gavin’s expression settled into calm once more.

“Okay,” the man accepted, and Nines was so relieved that he didn’t press the issue.

He would make it work. He had made the right choice, afterall.

* * *

After that, Nines convinced himself that things were okay.

He was careful whenever he interacted with anything related to a crime scene, from evidence to coroner’s reports. It was exhausting, keeping such tight control over himself all the time, but it paid off because for the next couple of months he didn’t have any more panic attacks. 

That was a triumph on itself, no matter how draining it was. Every day, Nines looked forward to his shift being over so he could hang out with Gavin without having to think about murders. To Nines, it was like his day started then, when he could curl up with a book and a cat on his lap. 

He daydreamed of this in the middle of work sometimes, when things were especially hard. And when he felt his old programming stirring, Nines used these memories as a shield: memorized lines of his favorite books silently recited helped him stay sane, even in the moments in which the evidence of people’s cruelty made him want to cry.

But, as far as Nines was concerned, things were fine.

And like this, time went by.

* * *

The door of the apartment building closed behind them, and to his right, Gavin sighed. 

Tired, the man rubbed his eyes in a violent gesture that always disturbed Nines. Although Nines had seen that gesture in both Hank and Chris Millier, when Gavin did it, it looked painful, like Gavin was releasing stress by harming himself, even if a little.

The truth was that Nines never knew what to do when Gavin was like this. His stress levels were high, but Nines didn’t need his sensors to know how frustrated Gavin was: it was obvious from the line of his brows, from the tension of his jaw, from the way he held himself as if ready for a fight.

“Fuck,” Gavin cursed, grimacing. “If she’d only let me help her!”

Nines stared at Gavin, at a loss. 

He wanted to touch Gavin, comfort him somehow, but when Gavin was the Detective, Nines was never certain that his touch was welcome. Even now, when Gavin walked away from the door, he looked distant, his eyes looking somewhere far away and not at Nines.

And Nines understood. They had just tried to talk to a woman that was protecting a potential murderer with her silence, and had refused to talk even when Gavin had offered to help her as well.

“I don’t need to be helped,” the woman had sneered, and thus their last lead had died, with a stubborn person lying to protect someone else.

Subdued, Nines followed Gavin, watching his back and trotting at his heels like a forgotten puppy. Not for the first time, he wondered what detective Pearson had done in these cases, if she had been able to help Gavin somehow, if she had been more useful to Gavin than he was.

This was what Nines was thinking, LED red, when they heard the first scream.

Nines had read plenty of times, in his books, how time seemed to stop when something out of the ordinary happened. A pause, a moment in which everything was suspended, giving the characters enough time to react.

For Nines, it wasn’t like this.

The scream was like a shock to his system, making alerts flare up in his field of vision. Nines turned his head towards the sound, mind reeling with the information provided to him by his voice recognition software, and then he froze, an endless moment of panic, an indecision that locked his limbs, paralyzing him into inaction.

It all happened in a second. Nines was still looking around, and before he could react, Gavin was already running at top speed, going towards the sound without second thought, a blur that made Nines’ eyes widen in fear.

Afterwards, Nines didn’t know how he made himself move. Maybe it was the fear-- the knowledge that Gavin was running into danger-- but when Nines reached the top of the stairs, it was just in time to see Gavin kick a door open, gun in hand. He didn’t seem bothered by the screams, the same screams that pierced through Nines’ system like arrows landing in the heart of an unknown target. Still, Nines’ fear was enough to make him move forwards and get to the door just in time to see the man throw a punch towards Gavin, the bright metal of a knife glimmering as it slashed through the air.

“Take her out!” Gavin yelled at Nines, and it was only then that Nines noticed the woman crumpled against the wall, sobbing. She looked unhurt, but Nines didn’t care about that because Gavin was in danger, and he had to--he had to--

It was over quickly.

The man was mad with rage, but Gavin had a gun, and Nines was an RK. For once allowing his main programming to take over to do its job, Nines walked three steps forward and grabbed the man’s wrist when he tried to use the knife against Nines, twisting it until he had the man pinned and subdued against the floor.

Gavin was there in an instant, handcuffing the man and calling for a patrol to take him to be questioned, and all through it Nines breathed heavily, his LED as red as the multiple warnings that littered his vision.

“Thanks, tin man,” Gavin said, patting Nines on the shoulder, and for a moment all Nines could see on his HUB was the replay of that memory-- the moment the knife was aimed at Gavin, poised to kill, and it would have if Gavin had reacted a second later. 

Distantly, he heard Gavin’s soothing voice, but it was not directed at him. It was for the woman sobbing on the floor, the woman who had so stubbornly refused to help them before, and Nines breathed in and out slowly, because he had promised Gavin he would not panic again.

One second.

Gavin had run, and Nines had not been able to catch him, and that second could have made the difference. Gavin could be on the floor right now, bleeding.

No. 

Dead.

NO.

No, that couldn’t happen, that wouldn’t happen, _ Nines was not going to allow it to happen-- _

“Well, that was really something,” Gavin whistled, and it was the carelessness in his voice, more than anything, that cut through Nines’ panic. 

Slowly Nines gave him a once over, scanning him even though Gavin had once requested him not to do so, disregarding his wishes because Nines needed the reassurance Gavin was okay, alive. Unhurt.

“The good news is that she’s gonna cooperate now,” Gavin smirked up at him, _ like nothing had happened _, and the knife had been so close to his stomach and Nines couldn’t--

Suddenly, with a jerky movement Nines didn’t know he was capable of, he grabbed Gavin’s wrist, needing to touch him, to make him look at him, to hold him into place.

“You can’t do that again,” he said, and desperately wished he could soften his voice, make it sound like a request instead of an order.

Gavin raised his eyebrows. “My job?”

“Place yourself in danger,” Nines said through gritted teeth, watching confusion wash over Gavin’s face. It made him angry somehow, furious that Gavin would be so cavalier with his safety and not even notice that he had been.

“Nines, I’m fine,” Gavin soothed, voice calm and even _ like nothing had happened _. “This is an everyday thing…”

“You cannot do it again!” Nines snapped, and immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say because Gavin’s face hardened, his whole body tensing.

“...is that an order?” he asked, voice low. There was something dangerous in Gavin’s tone, something that Nines didn’t recognize. Gavin’s expression was like a mask of stone as he glared at Nines, and the android felt like someone had reached into his chest to crush his thirium pump because this was the first time Gavin had looked at him this way. “Good,” Gavin hissed. “Because you have absolutely no right to tell me what to do.”

Gavin did not talk to Nines during the trip back to the precinct. The ride was uncomfortably silent and tense, a heavy unease hanging over them that Nines didn’t know how to mitigate. At the precinct, Gavin let Nines to take care of the paperwork while he took the witness’ testimony and interrogated the suspect.

It was already night when Nines had a minute to look for Gavin, looking in the break room even though he knew where he must be. Indeed, when Nines opened the door to the roof, Gavin was near the edge, leaning against the railing with an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

Nines’ thirium pump beat faster on his chest, stress levels increasing, as it had happened all day whenever he thought about talking to Gavin. That the man was outside was telling enough, even without the cigarette, because by now Nines could see the pattern: Gavin liked high, open spaces when he was upset.

The thought of having upset Gavin was unpleasant, a weight on Nines’ shoulders. However, much in contrast to the stormy LED of the android, the night around them was calm. The sky was clear for once, a few stars blinking shyly among the light pollution of the city.

Up there, it was quiet. The sounds of the cars and the street came to them muffled, and the calm of it helped Nines’ thoughts, allowing the android to sort and order them until he felt he could talk without his voice breaking.

“I’m sorry,” he said, into the darkness, and his voice was soft again, and Nines felt more like himself than he had all day.

There was a long silence in which he wondered if Gavin had heard him. Then, as if the wall between them had finally collapsed, Gavin looked at him, taking the chewed, unlit cigarette out of his mouth. 

His eyes were tired.

“Did you mean it?” he asked, serious, but didn’t tense when Nines went to him. 

Instead, he looked up into the sky as he awaited Nines’ answer, and the sight of his face set in an expression that resembled resignation made something twist in Nines’ gut again, even if he didn’t know why.

“Yes,” Nines answered in the end, not pretending not to understand. He did not know how to communicate the fear he had felt earlier that day, but after meditating on it, Nines had come to the conclusion that he wasn’t wrong. Gavin had run without a second thought. He hadn’t cared about his own safety. “You have to take care of yourself more…” Nines began, trying to explain himself. 

But Gavin recoiled before Nines had finished his phrase, flinched back from Nines, and the conflict that twisted his expression was something Nines had never expected to hate as much as he did.

“I can’t promise you that,” Gavin said, shaking his head. There was a tendril of anguish weaved through his words, coloring them with bitterness, but mostly he seemed sad. Resigned. As if this was something he had expected. “Anything. But not that.” 

Nines swallowed, taken aback. Although this was not their first fight --if he could call the misunderstanding that followed Nines joining the DPD a _ fight-- _, used as he was to Gavin being so mindful of his needs, it had honestly never occurred to him that he would bring this up and Gavin would just tell him no. 

Nines stood still for endless seconds, LED whirling amber, utterly lost under the dark sky of Detroit.

“This job,” Gavin said, when the silence had stretched too long, “is like that. It’s a nightmare sometimes, but I can help. I’ve thought about it a lot, and the bottom line is, if someone calls for help, and I’m there, I’ll answer. I _ will _ help,” there was determination on Gavin’s face now, a different kind of hardness, because this one was not born from stubbornness but from duty. “So I can’t promise you that I won’t put myself in danger again. I can’t,” he finished, and then, choked, “I’m sorry.”

Nines didn’t know how long he stayed there, staring blindly forwards, but after a while he was snapped out of it by Gavin moving in the dark.

“I’m going home,” he announced, softly, tentatively. “Are you coming?”

Even then, Nines recognized the request for what it was. For the first time, Nines had the novel thought that Gavin might be feeling as lost as he was, and he might be having as much trouble navigating this situation too.

This was the reason Nines shook his head. He needed to think about his, and he needed to calm down because he could not pretend he was not unsettled by the boundary Gavin had so clearly established, the first one Nines had truly encountered.

“I need to think about this,” Nines said, trying to be transparent, and was thankful he could see in the darkness when Gavin froze midstep, face going pale at Nines’ words. 

Suddenly, Gavin’s heart rate spiked, and Nines blinked at the unexpected anxiousness. Because, there, in front of him, Gavin _ was _ clearly anxious, expression panicked, eyes searching for something in Nines’ expression. His hands clenched at his sides, and he opened his mouth, like he wanted to ask Nines something.

“Gavin?” Nines asked, alarmed, and without thinking about it, reached to cup Gavin’s cheek, the one gesture of affection Gavin always seemed to welcome.

This time, too, Gavin’s reaction was beautiful. He leaned against Nines’ hand, eyelashes fluttering as a small sigh left his lips. Fear, or relief perhaps, Nines could not tell.

“I’m okay,” Gavin mumbled, and he took another moment to pull himself together before he leaned away. “Sorry, I’m fine. See you tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Nines accepted, and because he could, and he had wanted to all day, he pulled Gavin into his arms and kissed him, pleased when Gavin melted into it even if his kiss was unusually greedy, a tad desperate, like he wouldn’t ever have another chance to kiss Nines again.

“Nines,” Gavin whispered, breathlessly, when they pulled apart. He looked like he wanted to ask Nines to come home with him again, but he smirked instead, swallowing whatever it was he had wanted to say. “Good night to you too.”

That night, like he did when he needed to think, Nines walked home. The city was mostly quiet at night, and Nines liked that, the silence and the constant movement of walking helping him order his thoughts.

He thought about everything: about the knife, and his own fear, and how Gavin had looked far more frightened on the DPD rooftop than facing a murderer. There was something metaphorically pinging just at the edge of this mind, a realization of something elusive that Nines could not quite put together. But he dismissed it again, and because he did, by the time he arrived home, he had fully justified himself.

He wasn’t wrong. Surely, it was normal that he wouldn’t want Gavin to come to harm. Leaving aside Nines’ own shortcomings --and he was aware there were many-- it surely was okay to ask Gavin to take care of himself. And if Gavin couldn’t do it...well, that was why Nines had joined the DPD after all. For him. To protect him.

Yes, he wasn’t wrong.

Satisfied by his conclusion, Nines made himself comfortable on his couch. He still felt restless, and his thirium levels were a bit low, so he got himself something to drink and piled beside himself some adventure novels: Verne and Emilio Salgari, intent of following Phileas Fogg in his travels around the world and then start with The Black Corsair, a series that had been recommended to him, strangely, by Margaret.

In the blissful silence of his home Nines read, and Phileas Fogg’s adventures, and his final confrontation with detective Fix (whose stubborn dedication strangely reminded Nines of Gavin) and his subsequent marriage to Aouda, were almost enough to make him forget the unpleasantness of his day.

It was close to dawn when Nines stopped reading to go into a brief maintenance stasis. He wished #9 was with him, but the cat hadn’t appeared that night. Still, conscience mostly quiet, and mind entertained by The Black Corsair’s unbelievable adventures, Nines was almost peaceful as he went into stasis.

Because he was not wrong.

And things would be fine.

* * *

For a couple more weeks, as the month changed once more, things were indeed fine. 

And then, just as the weather finally warmed up, like a spell had been broken, things stopped being okay.

It was gradual, but Gavin looked paler and paler every day, tired, the circles under his eyes more pronounced. He looked stressed all the time, almost stretched too thin, and even when they were alone, Gavin very seldom relaxed anymore. There was tension in his shoulders all the time now, and one day, Nines realized it’d been a while since he’d seen Gavin smile.

The first few times, when Nines had asked Gavin about it, the man had only smiled and assured him it was just work. And Nines believed him.

But as the days went by and Gavin began looking ill with exhaustion, it became clear to Nines that this wasn’t the case. They worked the normal amount, staying late sometimes but not enough for him to be overworked. 

It wasn’t until Nines found Gavin one evening, fast asleep at his desk, that he realized that Gavin had been lying to him. Gavin’s brow was furrowed even in his sleep, and under the sickly yellow lights of the precinct he looked everything but okay.

“He’s not talking to you either, is he?” Tina asked, worriedly, when Nines went to her with his worries the next day. He didn’t know what to do. It was outside of Nines’ experience that Gavin didn’t confide in him, and he couldn’t help but think that it was because he was so unreliable as a partner. Although he hid it better, he still panicked when he was in a crime scene, and his days drained him so much that he needed to be alone reading for long hours to decompress.

Had Gavin noticed this? Nines didn’t know. He wished he could ask, but whenever he raised the subject Gavin changed the conversation. It terrified Nines, the feeling that Gavin was pulling away, and, despite Margaret, Connor _ and _ Rin’s advice, he didn’t know what to do.

“Fuck, I was hoping he’d talk to you at least,” Tina sighed, but her disquiet did nothing to make Nines less anxious. “To be honest he gets like this sometimes, but never to this point. Usually, if you give him space, he comes around on his own, but...I don’t know.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “A week. Let’s give him one more week and if he doesn’t come around, we’re staging an intervention.”

Nines blinked. “An intervention?”

“Sure,” Tina shurged. “He might not appreciate it at first, but I’ll be damned if I’m letting him crash and burn. Not on his own at least.” Then, Tina blinked as if something had startled her. “Wait, are you in? I didn’t ask before because I was assuming, and Gavin said... but you two _ are _ together, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Nines answered, because even though they hadn’t talked about it-- and it was with cold dread that Nines realized how many things they hadn’t talked about-- if Nines was sure of one thing it was that Gavin loved him. He didn’t need words to know that: Gavin made it abundantly clear in the way he treated him. “Although sometimes,” he found himself saying, surprised as the words spilled from his lips almost without his permission, words he hadn’t dare tell to anyone else, “—sometimes I fear I don’t know when I hurt him. I am not very good at human interactions, so I do not know when I cross a boundary until after the fact. I fear…I don’t want him to humor me.”

“He made you feel that way?” Tina asked, eyes alert, looking somewhat indignant. It took Nines a couple of heart beats to realize it was on his behalf.

“No!” he blurted out, because it was the truth. “No. Up until now, he had actually been very honest and open with me. I’m just insecure sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s normal,” Tina reassured him. “But that right there? That’s pretty rare for Gavin. That man would not be caught dead being vulnerable. Many bad experiences. It will take time,” suddenly, Tina’s expression changed, and Nines immediately straightened his back as she steeled herself, at attention, an automated response to Tina’s seriousness. “If you really want something with him, though, be sure you are comfortable with that. If not, fuck off right now before either of you get more hurt. I’m sure you have people looking out for you, but I have to look out for Gavin.”

Slowly, Nines’ LED went down from yellow to bright blue, giving away the warm feeling that nestled around his heart at Tina’s words. The emotion was warm, and beautiful, and it was strange because he wanted to thank her, this person that was on Gavin’s corner so completely, and was so determined to protect him from the world.

“I understand, officer Chen,” Nines answered, trying to convey through the use of her title how serious he was as well. He understood. He would fight for Gavin until the end as well. “I assure you I have thought about this at length and my affections towards Gavin are not a fleeting thing. I would like to stay in a relationship with him, for a very long time if he would like to.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” Tina said, deflating. All of the sternness fled from her, leaving behind just a worried friend trying to discreetly wipe the tears at the corner of her eyes. “_ Thank fuck _.”

When they parted that day, after agreeing on keeping an eye on Gavin, Nines felt his regard for Tina grow. He’d already held her in high esteem just because of how much she meant to Gavin, but after that conversation, after having spent a while bonding over their shared love for him, Nines was left with the definite impression that she was, most definitely, a friend.

Almost without him noticing, Nines’ world had expanded once more.

* * *

Gavin’s week was almost over when it happened.

It was another case that triggered it, of course, and in retrospective, Nines should have known. However, hindsight was always 20/20 and at the time Nines had been too busy with his own feelings to do anything differently.

The case was an old one, if only because it had been on standby for several months now. It preceded Nines, the first victim discovered during the first few months Gavin and detective Pearson had been working together.

It was her who found another lead, unexpected when the case had been cold for almost a year, and Gavin, and by extension Nines, had been put on the case immediately.

After over two years, the end arrived rather quickly.

Seventy two hours, several liters of coffee, and a few power naps for the humans later, Nines watched together with Connor and Hank --who had been called as backup-- as Gavin and detective Pearson arrested the murderer, a couple of undercover police cars closing the residential street just in case. 

“Go congratulate him,” Hank said, gesturing towards Gavin’s direction. “This one was a tough one, and well deserved. He was always a hard worker, that one. He’ll go far still,” Hank smiled, the proud fondness clear in his voice.

“Maybe you should go congratulate him as well,” Connor said softly, his words seemingly startling Hank.

“I--”, Hank stuttered, and Nines made the decision to stop postponing the question and ask about Hank and Gavin’s relationship the next time he had an opportunity. “Perhaps I will.”

[ Will you tell me about it later? ] Nines requested, sending Connor the message wirelessly.

[ It’s not my story to tell. ] Connor answered. [ But I will remind you to ask, if you want. I think Hank will tell you. ]

[ Thank you. ]

The car with the suspect was already out of view when Nines made it to Gavin’s side. They would register the man’s house next, which was always an unpleasant task, but after that they’d be done for the day.

“Congratulations,” Nines said to both detective Pearson and Gavin. “Hank was telling me this was a difficult case.”

“Aren’t they all?” Gavin answered, but peered towards where Connor and Hank were talking to a couple of officers. There was a flash of embarrassment in Gavin’s face, and he dropped his eyes to the ground quickly.

“Thank you, Nines,” Pearson said, serious but cordial. “It was a stroke of luck, to be honest.”

“Well, leads often are,” shrugged Gavin, and with a sigh, reached for the silver chain hidden under his shirt, pulling out the medal and fiddling with it absentmindedly. 

Searching the man’s house was as creepy as Nines had expected, but quicker too because it provided them with almost all the evidence they needed. It was obvious the man was obsessed with his next victim, going by all the pictures and notes he had on her.

“_ I did it all for her _,” Pearson mimicked, voice full of disgust, reading one of the suspect’s notes. “Jesus christ. Can you imagine being so fucked up in the head that you use such an excuse to murder people?”

“The selfish asshole,” Gavin agreed, carefully taking pictures of everything and placing evidence in their designated, labeled, plastic bags, with a meticulousness he seldom used in his everyday life.

Nines, however, stilled. Detective Pearson’s words rubbed him wrong somehow, a cold anxiety he could not explain touching the place his stomach would be if he had one.

“Maybe he--it was his own twisted way to protect her,” Nines tried, weakly, without knowing why, his stress levels rising when both Gavin and detective Pearson turned to look at him, mirror expressions of surprise on their faces. “I’m not justifying him,” Nines added, raising his hands, and that seemed to placate both humans enough that they went back to work.

“Well, even if he had not been killing people,” Pearson continued. “That’s such a selfish thing, don’t you think? Doing whatever you want, and then saying it was for someone else’s sake...that’s so ugly. He was using her as an excuse. He was killing people but wasn’t brave enough to face his own feelings.”

Nines blinked, LED going straight to red in his temple. There was a strong panic gripping his insides, a shock so strong he could barely function.

He felt paralized, like a bolt of lightning had finally reached him.

“I…” Nines began, eyes going to Gavin. Gavin who was so tired, who always tried so hard. 

Why? He asked himself, on the edge of a revelation.

What was it that made Gavin so exhausted? Why was he trying so hard?

“Yes, Nines?” Gavin asked, still not looking at him, busy as he was as he finished going through a desk.

With a jolt, Nines realized that Gavin had not been like this when he was working with Pearson. Tired, yes, but he didn’t look like he was about to collapse, even in the bad days. He’d always talked little about his job, but he’d often come to Nines for comfort, even when their only moment of honesty had been in the middle of the night, in those long hours #1 --Sammy-- had been ill.

When had been the last time Gavin had seeked comfort from Nines? Besides that time on the rooftop, Nines discovered he wasn’t able to tell.

That time on the rooftop…

“I..._ Gavin… _” Nines called, voice metallic. He didn’t know what was happening, but it was like a chasm had opened in his mind, and Nines was afraid. He was afraid to jump, because there was something down there he didn’t want to face, something he was afraid to see come to light.

Too much.

It was too much.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re fine, you’ve done it before, it’ll pass,” Gavin’s voice was distant, but it was soft and kind, and Nines followed it without question. 

Although his eyes had been open the entire time, it was like his brain finally registered the feed. Once more, Nines was outside, in the backyard of the house, if not completely hidden, at least away from as many curious eyes as possible.

“Hey, you with me?” Gavin asked. This time, he was cupping Nines’ hands between his own, kissing Nines’ knuckles gently, and Nines was embarrassed to notice that his skin had peeled away under Gavin’s touch, and the white plastic of his chassis was very visible, a sharp contrast against Gavin’s olive skin.

“Yes,” Nines answered, watching the relief wash over Gavin like something physical.

“Thank _ fuck _,” Gavin swore, and he sounded so similar to Tina that Nines smiled, his LED shining soft blue. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” Nines said, miserably, LED changing to gold. Now that he was himself once again, the realization of what had happened filled him with shame.

A panic attack.

He’d been doing so well.

“What happened back there? You went full robocop on us for a second,” Gavin asked him. He still had Nines’ hands between his own, rubbing his thumbs distractedly over Nines’ chassis, and regretfully, despite it feeling unreasonably good, Nines made his skin cover his fingers again. He had already shown Gavin enough of his failings, and the added vulnerability of the chassis made it unbearable to look at the man.

“Forgive me,” Nines repeated. “It was nothing.”

Gavin frowned. “What do you mean it was nothing?” 

“It won’t happen again,” Nines repeated, hoping for Gavin to drop it because he really didn’t want to talk about this anymore. He felt useless and embarrassed enough as it was.

“That’s not an answer,” Gavin pointed out. His voice was reasonable as he talked to Nines, and suddenly Nines felt very frustrated. It was _ Gavin _ who was stubborn, and infuriating, and never talked about his problems. What right did he have to use that voice on Nines? “Nines, you had a panic attack in the middle of a crime scene. You cannot expect me to ignore…”

“Why not?” Nines demanded before he could think better of it. “You ignore your own distress all the time.”

Gavin startled.

“That’s different.”

“Different how?” Nines pressed. He knew this wasn’t the right time for this conversation, but he was still reeling from his earlier revelation, and he had discovered that focusing on Gavin was a great way to distract himself from his own feelings.

“Look, maybe this is not the best pl--”

“Detective Reed?”

Nines had never in his life loved and hated Connor more than at that moment. However, all of those feelings vanished when he took one look at Connor’s concerned face.

“We just received a call from the precinct,” Connor continued, voice grave. “The suspect wounded a police officer and escaped before he could be locked away.”

“_ Shit _,” Gavin swore, loudly.

“The police are on his tail, but apparently he’s been asking for both detective Pearson and you,” Connor stopped, as if listening, and only then did Nines notice that he had cut himself from the police's communications during his panic attack.

“Tell them I’m on my way,” Gavin told Connor, every inch the detective once more. Connor nodded and turned around, and Gavin allowed himself one moment to rub his eyes before he made to follow. Nines was so concentrated listening to the police channel again that he almost missed when Gavin said, “Not you, Nines. You’re staying behind.”

Nines stumbled, too stunned to react any other way.

“What?” he breathed, the cold panic he had become so familiar with of late climbing up his ribs to trap his thirium pump in an ice cage.

Gavin paused, surprised. “You had a panic attack not even five minutes ago, you’re not in the frame of mind for this.”

But Nines was not listening. All he could think about was how much of a failure he was. Broken. Useless.

Defective.

_ Gavin has noticed _, an ugly voice said in his mind. He had to protect Gavin, that was the whole reason for this, but Gavin had noticed he was defective, and that’s why he was leaving Nines behind.

“I am fine,” Nines said, words forceful. “I can help you.”

Gavin shook his head. “You cannot help like this. Gather yourself and we’ll talk when I come back…”

“No. I can do this.”

“Nines--”

“I was made for this!”

“Look--”

“Why won’t you trust me?” Nines nearly shouted. He had never raised his voice before, and he hated it, hated how it made him feel, but there was a weight crushing his chest, and he needed to let it out. It hurt. It hurt so much-- the long days, and the fear, and the awful job coalescing into a single ball of pain. “Gavin! Can’t you rely on me?”

Gavin’s face twisted, and for a moment, he looked stricken, like Nines had physically hit him. 

“That’s an order!” Gavin barked, looking almost scared of his own words before his expression hardened once more into that blank mask Nines already hated so dearly. “It has nothing to do with trust,” Gavin said, voice cold. “I’m in charge of this investigation and you’re staying here. We’ll talk afterwards.”

That was it.

Full of burning impotency, Nines watched Gavin walk out of the yard and exchange words with some officers. Then, after a few minutes of deliberation, Gavin climbed into a car with detective Pearson and Hank, and drove away, leaving Nines behind.

* * *

Nines had never been good dealing with anxiety.

When he’d been alone, with the walls of his empty apartment threatening to cage him in, he’d hated it. When he’d been haunted by the fearful eyes of his coworkers, he’d hated it too. Back then, alone as he had been, the anxiousness had consumed him, the weight of time and self-made expectations crushing him until he thought he would break under the strain, for surely his systems wouldn’t be able to handle the pressure.

After Gavin drove away, leaving him alone with his thoughts, he felt like that too. He endlessly paced back and forth through the backyard of some murderer’s house, unable to deal with the fact that Gavin had left him behind.

Gavin needed him, didn’t he?

Nines’ mind was a storm. A whirlwind of thoughts pushed and pulled at him, his advanced mind becoming a deathly trap under that much emotion and information.

Gavin needed him.

Gavin didn’t need him.

But if Gavin didn’t need him-- those long, awful days, and the exhaustion, and the panic-- what on earth had he done all those things for?

[ For him. ] Nines reminded himself. [ To protect him. ]

Gavin had no right to ground him.

Nines was doing this for Gavin, because he was an RK. He could be useful, he could protect him, and _ he was not wrong _.

Nines didn’t know for how long the storm raged, but when he was aware of himself again, it was because he heard Connor’s steps approaching him.

Connor watched Nines pace for a while in silence, brown eyes intense in their concentration. He watched and waited, his LED whirling on his temple, for so long that Nines finally stopped pacing and turned to him, intent on asking him what was wrong. 

“Gavin left with Hank towards where the culprit was last seen,” Connor said at last, voice neutral. “He asked me to look after you.” And then, before Nines could say anything, Connor raised his hand, offering a sync wordlessly.

This time, their sync was a mess.

Nines was all over the place, feelings and memories scattered, his frustration clouding their sync and making it dark and unpredictable, a thunderstorm.

Memories.

Gavin with a beard, hurt, but allowing Nines to patch him up.

[ I can protect him! ]

The awful anxiousness-- the _ revolt _ Nines had hidden so many times but still felt every time he had to read a coroner’s report or enter a crime scene.

[ It was for his sake! ]

_ “If someone calls for help, and I’m there, I’ll answer,” _ Gavin said, and he looked so earnest, but he couldn’t be careless, he HAD to take care of himself.

[ I’m not wrong! ] Nines cried out into the sync.

_ “You can’t do it again,” _Nines snapped and Gavin had looked so wounded, but it had been for the best.

[ I’m not wrong! ] Nines said again, the sync dark and unstable. He’d done it all for Gavin, left the library for him, and he’d not been wrong because it meant he could protect him even if Gavin didn’t need protecting because he was _ better _ at his job than Nines would ever be…

_ “That’s so selfish, don’t you think?” _ detective Pearson asked, but it was not. It could not, because he wasn’t a serial killer, and he’d only wanted to protect Gavin.

But Gavin was tired, Gavin was exhausted. Why?

_ “Making big, life changing decisions based on one person is not fair,” _ Margaret said, those awful words Nines had not wanted to hear then and didn’t want to hear now.

_ “As long as it isn’t easy, as long as you feel _ bad _ about it, then you’re off the hook, isn’t that right?” _ Emma told Nines, face twisted in distaste. _ “You don’t look at other people, your own feelings are enough to justify yourself.” _

[ I’m not wrong! ] Nines insisted inside the sync. [ It’s only natural to want the people you love to be safe. It’s normal to want to protect them! I may have left the library, but I did it for someone I love. It’s worth it, if he’s okay. It was the right choice. I’m not wrong! I’m-- ]

[ Wrong. ] Connor interrupted, and inside the sync the word sounded momentous, loud, like the thunder Nines had been running away from all this time. It was an absolute thing, hearing it resonate through their sync, because underneath it Connor sounded out of sorts, a bit scared. 

[ Nines, you _ are _ wrong. ] Connor repeated, and Nines couldn’t help but catch involuntary flashes of images from Connor-- Hank, and danger, and duty. There was fear there as well, so deep Nines felt like crying, but there was also trust and support. And then, as Connor finished processing Nines’ memories, anguish. [ You...have you been saying such things to the detective? ]

The sync went very still, for a moment void of everything as Nines took a deep metaphorical breath to take a good look at himself.

_ For you _, Nines had written in a letter in what felt a lifetime away, and he had thought it a romantic thing.

A chill ran through him. 

It was like a blindfold had fallen from his eyes, and for the first time he could see clearly.

What had Gavin felt, when he read that? 

Nines had left a life that made him happy for one he hated. Gavin had _ seen _ the repercussions this had on Nines, had been there, beside him, offering support through it all.

Whenever he saw Nines panic, saw how unhappy he was in the DPD...how did Gavin feel?

When he saw Nines so unhappy and knew it was ‘for his sake’...?

[ Connor… ]

“Nines!” Connor said, breaking the sync, and the emotional transference allowed Nines to feel the horror that colored Connor’s words. It hurt, the rejection. Shame flooded him over, so strong it was overpowering, but maybe Connor could still feel his emotions too because he gripped Nines’ shoulders and shook him, something frantic in his eyes. “No, no, Nines, it’s not about that-- it’s the police channel--we need to go--the hospital--Gavin was--”

And it was surreal because, even if androids didn’t dream, Nines was sure this was what it felt to be in a nightmare. 

The world freezed, narrowed to specific words: accident, bullet, lucky, alive. Gavin. 

Gavin.

He needed to see Gavin.

* * *

Nines had already experienced something similar when Sami had been poisoned, but that experience had done nothing to prepare him for this one.

The journey to the hospital was long and awful, and he was incredibly grateful Connor had been there with him, holding him in the back of the taxi when Nines thought his thirium pump might stop working from the pain and the worry.

The hospital felt oddly empty when Nines and Connor arrived, all of the pent up emotions Nines felt absent from the place. Showing their badges earned them clear and concrete instructions to Gavin’s room, no delay at all because the wound had been non fatal, and while Gavin had a fractured arm, he hadn’t needed major surgery to remove the bullet or anything.

The luck of the devil, a nurse had said, and, while relieved, Nines ached to see him and make sure for himself.

However, when they turned a corner of the long hospital halls, Nines didn’t know if he was more relieved or upset at hearing Gavin and Hank’s raised voices coming from what must be Gavin’s room.

“--it’s not like you!” Hank’s voice was saying, loud and tense, and Nines quickened his pace.

“Shut up, old man! What the fuck do you know?” Gavin yelled back.

“I know enough to notice you running yourself to the ground!”

“_ Hank… _” Connor sighed, shaking his head, because of all the ideas in the world, yelling at Gavin while he was in a hospital bed was probably one of the worst.

“And why exactly would you care!” came Gavin’s answer, just before the androids reached the door of Gavin’s room, where a couple of nurses were nervously hanging around. “You didn’t give a fuck before!”

“He needs to rest,” one of the nurses mumbled, too cowed to intervene. “He just woke up, and…”

“Because you apologized to Connor!” Hank yelled, drowning the nurse’s voice. “You apologized, and have been trying not to be a dick, and you are Nines’ friend!” then, softer. “Look, I get there’s no love lost between us, but I was a dick too, before. And you care about Nines, and I care about Connor, so that puts us sort of on the same page.”

From the door, Nines had a perfect view of the room.

Gavin was on the bed, his left shoulder bandaged and in a cast. He had an IV drip hooked to his right hand, and even though he looked pale and ready to faint from exhaustion, his eyes were bright, full of fire, or tears perhaps, Nines didn’t know. 

On the other end of the room, Hank had stood from the chair he must have been sitting in when Gavin woke up. Nines had never seen Hank angry before, and didn’t understand why he was be angry now, but the man was big and intimidating in his anger, leaning forward in Gavin’s direction like he wanted to reach for him.

Nines wanted to dash forward and take Gavin into his arms and never let him go, but the way Gavin’s face twisted at Hank’s words held him in place. It was a terrible thing to watch, as if Gavin was in extreme pain, and in a moment of stupidity Nines considered turning around and demanding the nurses give Gavin more painkillers.

However, that was not it.

“Just—just fuck off,” Gavin said, but it came out chocked, breathing labored.

“Gavin—” Hank tried, deflating immediately and taking a step forward towards the bed, a hand stretched in a peace offering.

Gavin’s reaction was immediate.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarled, eyes wild, curling into himself like a feral cat ready to attack. “Get away from me! Why don’t you just fuck off again and leave me alone? You were happier like that in the first place, weren’t you?!” 

“Mr Reed…” a nurse interrupted, or tried to. 

On his bed, it was obvious Gavin was hyperventilating, panicking, because he was breathing too fast, eyes unfocused, desperate. There were tears in his eyes, and when he spoke it looked like it was against his will, like the painkillers and the drugs in his system wouldn’t allow him to shut up.

“You never gave a fuck about me, I get it! I was just your job, wasn’t I?” he cried out, much to Hank’s shock. “Some stupid rookie too blinded by his hero worship to know better! But I do know better now, so leave me the fuck alone!” 

“Gavin…” Hank whispered, shaken. “I…”

“Go away! Why won’t you LEAVE ME ALONE!”

An alarm began to blare when Gavin moved, violently ripping his IV drip and all the other wires and tubes that were hooked to him. He jumped from the bed in an odd, jerky movement, and crashed against a wall as he lost his balance.

Hank instinctively moved forward, and Nines was grateful when Connor restrained him, allowing Nines to cross the room in three agile strides and finally take Gavin into his arms.

“Gavin—“ Nines called but at his voice Gavin curled further into himself, cradling his broken arm, as if he had to protect himself from Nines too, and Nines felt his heart break a little at the reaction.

“Please, allow my brother to deal with him,” Nines heard Connor say in the distance, probably talking to the nurses, but he dismissed everything in his surroundings because right now Gavin was the only important thing in the world.

“Gavin,” Nines called again, petting the man’s tangled hair softly, trying to communicate he was safe. “Gavin, it’s me.”

“Leave me alone,” Gavin requested, voice small and frail. Such a voice might have made Nines honor the request in other circumstances, but it was abundantly clear that being alone was the last thing Gavin needed right now.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Nines informed him, surprised when that made Gavin lash out again.

“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” the man screamed, his voice catching in a sob. “You are going to leave anyway! I know you are going to leave me too! So why won’t you do it already!?”

Nines had never wondered how it was that Gavin stayed calm when it was Nines the one having a panic attack, but even so, he had his answer right then. 

It was an odd reaction perhaps, but Nines felt love rising up within him, and endless, golden love for this man, the warm desire to soothe and heal overtaking him for a moment. It cleared his mind, made his hands gentler, his voice softer, because Gavin was scared, and--and this was not protecting him, it was just that Nines wanted to make him understand that he was on Gavin’s corner too, that he was not alone, and he would hold him as soon as he woke up from his nightmare.

“Breathe, Gavin. I have you,” Nines mumbled, repeating the words Gavin had used to soothe him. “It’s okay, let it out. You can let it out. I will not leave you.”

Carefully, Nines touched Gavin’s tear streaked cheek, pleased when the man allowed the touch. Tenderly, Nines drew him closer, and when Gavin resisted a little, Nines cupped his face in his hand, their own gesture of love.

At the gentle touch, Gavin’s breathing stuttered, tears falling down his cheeks like a dam that had broken. Finally, --finally!-- he allowed Nines to hold him, hiding his face in the android’s dark shirt, trembling so much that Nines was worried he’d been hurt in his outburst.

“I don’t want your pity,” Gavin whispered, voice muffled against Nines’ shirt, and Nines heart completely shattered when Gavin’s voice came out as a sob. “Didn’t you become involved with me because you were lonely? It didn’t have to be me, anyone would have done!” he cried. He pulled away then to look at Nines, and his face was a sight, tear stained and wrecked with anguish. “Look at me, I’m a mess! Sooner or later, you’ll find someone better than me. You’ll get tired of me! And then I...” he trailed off, voice small. “I will be alone again.”

“Never,” Nines vowed, with as much certainty he could muster. It killed him, to think Gavin had been carrying all of this all by his lonesome, all the more because his exhaustion suddenly made sense. 

Had Gavin been hiding? All those times he had kissed Nines with that strange desperation, had he been feeling lost and insecure? Like Nines would leave him at any moment.

Speechless, Nines wiped Gavin’s tears as gently as he knew how. He kissed them away, slowly and tenderly, the salty bitter taste something he hoped he never tasted again.

And Gavin...broke.

Like Nines’ kisses were some sort of sign, Gavin began to cry in earnest, hiding his face against Nines’ chest. 

He broke down, heart wrenching sobs barely muffled against Nines’ dark shirt. He cried for a long time in Nines’ arms, but he allowed himself to be held and comforted as he wept, and Nines did, trying to convey through his touch that things would be okay.

“Put him on the bed,” a nurse asked after a while, and Nines was grateful for the softness of her voice because Gavin’s breathing had just evened out, the exhaustion and the drugs finally taking him under.

Nines complied, and when he stood from the floor, he found that Connor and Hank were no longer in the room, nor the three nurses that had been watching the argument. Instead, this new nurse was short but strong, probably the one they called when patients got unruly. She had a look of efficiency to her that Nines immediately liked.

The nurse was careful as she checked Gavin over. She straightened his cast and canalized him in a different place so he could have his antibiotics through the IV drip. All of this Nines watched with attention, systems alert, even if he knew it was not really necessary. Even in his sleep Gavin looked anxious, and Nines was taken aback when the nurse sighed, as if resigned.

“You can get in the bed with him if you want,” she shrugged, checking Gavin’s blood pressure for the last time. “He had a very traumatic experience, and from what I just witnessed, he’s due for a night terror. I’m sure it’ll help having you with him. You’re Nines RK900, aren’t you?” she asked, and Nines flinched before nodding. “He listed you as family,” she informed Nines, and the android swallowed, a liquid feeling threatening to spill from his chest. “Are you his husband?” she questioned, without a trace of judgement.

“I’m his boyfriend,” Nines clarified, the first time he’d said it aloud, and the nurse hummed, making a note on Gavin’s files.

Nines listened with rapt attention as the nurse --Madeline-- gave him instructions as to Gavin’s care and what to expect, and when she was gone, Nines turned off the lights even if it was too early to sleep, and slid into bed with Gavin, on the right side as not to jostle Gavin’s injury.

He wanted to cry. 

He didn’t know why-- there were too many reasons. But beside him, Gavin’s breathing was even, and he curled into Nines as he slept as if seeking comfort, and Nines loved this stubborn man, with his pain and dedication and his awkward kindness, and for a moment he allowed himself to just feel the love, willing it to pass into Gavin so the man could wear it like a charm around his neck, and would tell him he was safe and loved.

“I love you,” he confessed into Gavin’s hair, and Nines wanted to cry because it was true and absolute, and out of all the truths he had figured out that day, this one was the one that shone the brightest.

Love was not the only reason, but it _ was _ love that gave him courage.

Nines was calm as he closed his eyes and finally, honestly, took a long look at himself and his actions. He didn’t like what he found, and knew he didn’t have much time, for, as he checked the message log in his HUB, he read Tina’s notice that she had dropped by Gavin’s place and she was now on her way to the hospital.

Truly, Nines didn’t have that much time now. He needed to do too many things, talk to a lot of people --including Gavin-- but even so, he started to think, because he realized he needed to fix things he had ignored for a painfully long time. 

But for a while, in a darkened hospital room, with Gavin safely asleep in his arms, Nines closed his eyes, and thought about the path he must take in the future.


	10. Interlude: Together

**1\. ** **Tina & Polly**

For the third time in ten minutes, Tina looked at the time on her phone.

Although it was early in the evening still, and by all means there should be some light, Gavin’s apartment felt dark, terribly empty even with the cat that was twirling around Tina’s ankles.

For a moment, Tina allowed herself to curl up, pulling her knees up against her chest. Gavin was fine, Nines was with him (according to Hank’s thoughtful message), but still Tina felt her heart thunder in her chest at the notion.

This was not the first time Gavin had ended up in the hospital. It was the third, really: one for a fight they’d both taken part in, unrelated to work, and another one for a bullet, the only time Gavin had been in any real danger.

In the fifteen years or so they’d been friends, Tina had patched Gavin up plenty of times, although perhaps more than he had patched her up. They’d covered for each other enough that they knew the drill by now, and the motions were familiar-- feed the cat, clean the litter box, secure doors and windows.

And yet…

Displeased at being ignored, Fliss stood on her hindlegs, resting her white front paws in Tina’s sock clad feet. The way she looked at the woman was questioning, and not for the first time, Tina wondered how smart she was, how much she understood from what was happening around her.

Aware that she finally had Tina’s attention, Fliss fidgeted in place, raising and lowering her head like she wanted to jump onto the couch with Tina. She didn’t meow or climb though, oddly polite as she always was around the woman, but there was a strange intelligence in the way she looked at Tina, almost like she was encouraging her to talk.

“Gavin did something dumb again,” Tina informed her, just in case. The cat blinked at her slowly, and Tina smiled despite herself, reaching to scratch her under the chin. “You’re a good girl,” she cooed. “I guess you’re the only one that has been effectively taking care of him, aren’t you?”

Fliss purred in answer, and Tina sighed, anxiousness weaving itself around her heart like poison ivy. She’d always been bad at waiting, and she longed to be at Gavin’s side, yell at him for being an idiot, anything but sitting in a dark, empty flat, waiting.

She was about to check her phone again when the doorbell rang, so loud in the silence that it startled Fliss into hiding under the couch. It was not the doorbell from the street, but the one just outside the door, and Tina hurried to open it, surprised.

There, on the other side, Polly stood calmly. She was wearing an elegant red pencil skirt and a white blouse, and even among the mess that were her feelings, Tina had to stop to admire her. She didn’t think she was biased in her opinion that Polly was stunningly beautiful.

“Hi,” Tina said, dumbly, because even though they’d been dating for several months, Tina still felt butterflies in her stomach at the sight of her girlfriend.

Polly, however, didn’t have such trouble. With confidence born of familiarity, she took a step forward to place a kiss on Tina’s forehead before pecking her in the lips as hello.

Tina blushed, unable to control it and unable to get used to it. Polly always made her feel like that, like she was melting. On one hand she wondered if she’d ever be able to prove to Polly that she had more than one brain cell that worked at a time, and on the other she never wanted to stop feeling like she’d explode of happiness just by looking at her girlfriend.

“You could have sent a message,” Tina grumbled, shy. “I would have met you downstairs.”

“There was someone entering the building,” Polly answered. “It was hardly a bother to climb a few sets of stairs.”

As an afterthought, Tina took a step back and closed the door, looking around to make sure Fliss had not used her distraction to run to freedom.

She hadn’t. After a few seconds of peering from under the couch, the cat came out with her tail high, intent of inspecting the stranger.

With a smile, Polly kneeled, petting Fliss, who, of course, purred.

Well, Tina thought, gathering her jacket and the duffel bag she had used to pack some of Gavin’s belongings, at least Fliss had good taste.

“Ready?” Polly asked, standing up, and Tina noded.

“You needn’t come get me, I told you I was fine,” she said, because it was true. She had texted Polly what happened simply to let her know she’d be busy for a few days and not to worry. She had not expected Polly to offer to come with her to the hospital, to offer to_ help her. _

Tina had definitely not asked, but Polly had insisted.

“Yes, because your family is in the hospital, of course you’re fine,” Polly quipped, and Tina bristled. She _ was _ fine. She’d managed well enough all her life, and she would this time again, with or without Polly.

However, like Polly could read Tina’s mind, she stopped her, holding her shoulders so Tina wouldn’t have other choice but to look at Polly’s earnest face.

“Tina, that you can _ live _ through something, doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve support or comfort,” she said, expression kind, and Tina swallowed, face burning once more. “I _ want _ to help you. I _ want _ to be here for you. Is that not okay?”

“I have never…” Tina started, dropping her eyes. This was not something she was used to receiving from people other than Gavin. And the truth was that yeah, it made her uncomfortable. But at the same time she realized how wrong that was, because she wanted Polly beside her, holding her hand, telling her everything would be okay. 

Tentatively, she leaned forward, relieved when Polly wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“Yeah,” Tina mumbled. Polly’s clothes smelled like flowers, and the smell was comfortable, familiar. Safe. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Polly kissed Tina’s forehead once more, and for some reason that made something catch on Tina’s throat, words she had held back spilling now that she felt safe and loved.

“He was not okay,” Tina said, voice trembling. “I knew he was not okay, but I did nothing. What if...what if it’s too much? What if whatever he’s going through is something I can’t help him with? I can’t--”

“He’ll be okay,” Polly reassured her, and Tina pulled away a little, upset.

“You can’t know that!”

“I do know it,” Polly insisted, and the certainty in her eyes disarmed Tina, doused the fear that had been kindling in her heart of late. “I know it because he’s strong, and you’ll be there for him when he needs it,” she soothed. “Sometimes, the only thing we can do for those we love is be there for them. Be ready, for when they ask for help.” Polly smiled and gently tucked a stray strand of Tina’s dark hair under her ear. “Tina, Gavin loves you. He loves you, and he _ will _ reach out, because he may be stubborn, but he’s also strong.”

Tina chuckled. “Yeah, he is.”

“So believe in him,” Polly urged her. Another kiss, this time in Tina’s nose, and for once Tina allowed herself to enjoy Polly’s affection, let it wash over her and surround her, warm like a blanket. “In the meantime, I’ll be here for you. I’ll take care of you, just until you can do it yourself. You needn’t carry this on your own,” she finished, sweetly, and Tina felt like the sun had risen somewhere in her heart, bright and wonderful and scaringly powerful. “Tell me what you need?”

Tina kissed her. Slowly, gently, trying to convey all of the emotion she felt through it. She laced their fingers together too, because, being an android, this was Polly’s equivalent of a kiss. Tina was pleased when Polly hummed against her lips, the feeling of static in her hand telling her that Polly had retracted her dark skin to expose her chassis.

When the kiss ended, they didn’t pull apart. Tina took a moment to catch her breath, smiling shyly into her girlfriend’s eyes, the eyes that were watching her with unadulterated adoration.

“...take me to the hospital?” Tina requested, voice small, and this time it was Polly that kissed her, slow and sweet.

“Of course,” Polly agreed after they pulled away, and Tina blinked back tears. 

She was so glad Polly was with her. So incredibly glad it was her that Polly had fallen in love with, that it was Tina who Polly chose to love every day.

Overwhelmed, she averted her face, and startled a little when she met a pair of curious yellow-green eyes watching them from the couch with unhidden curiosity.

“Don’t worry, Fliss,” Tina told the cat, because Gavin’s dumbness had rubbed off on her after all. “I’ll bring your dumb human back soon enough, okay?”

As if she had understood, Fliss yawned and went to sleep, and Tina smiled.

Pulling out her phone, Tina sent a message to Nines, telling him she was on her way. Then, holding Polly’s hand, human and android went to the hospital.

* * *

  
  
**2\. Connor & Hank**

Connor’s steps were loud on the tiled floor of the hospital, and when Hank felt him sitting beside him in the uncomfortable chairs of the waiting area, he straightened up a little, raising his head from where he had hidden it between his hands, elbows on his knees.

“Here,” Connor said, placing the warm cup between Hank’s hands in such a way that Hank had to hold it. The sweet smell of chocolate filled his nose after a second, and Hank felt the knot in his throat raise, threatening to spill into tears. “I bought you a sandwich, too. Do you think you can eat it?”

Swallowing, Hank nodded. He wasn’t hungry at all, but he’d already fucked up big time today and he was not about to make Connor upset by not eating.

“Sip the hot chocolate first,” Connor instructed him, resting a hand on Hank’s back, and Hank instinctively obeyed. It was rich, with a touch of mint, and the taste of it --or maybe Connor’s loving touch-- made tears spring into Hank’s eyes.

He didn’t deserve it.

But whenever he voiced that opinion, Connor never agreed, and he knew it hurt him to hear such words from Hank. They were working on that.

“Thank you,” Hank said instead, and was endlessly grateful when Connor kept the level of physical contact as it was. Anymore and Hank would burst into tears, and he felt really uncomfortable at the thought of crying in such a place.

Slowly, Hank ate the food Connor brought him. He did it deliberately, making sure to carefully chew and swallow. When he finished, he did feel a bit better, warmer and a tad calmer, and if he didn’t berate himself for it, it was because this was Connor’s gift: not the food, but care and comfort.

Just like Nines had touched Gavin when he’d been crying.

Gavin.

Gavin’s face, twisted in pain as he shouted at Hank, was etched into his mind. He didn’t think it was something he would forget soon.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Connor asked, as if he could read Hank’s mind. 

Hank chuckled, mirthlessly. “I guess I should, huh?” he sighed. The truth was that he didn’t want to talk about it, but it was long since he’d decided to stop hiding from Connor. So he talked. “We were...I was…” he swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts. “I was his mentor,” Hank finished, and it was such an inadequate word for what they had been. Hank had been Gavin’s mentor, yes, but they had also been friends. He still remembered the joy on Gavin’s face when he’d been made detective, his cocky grin. He’d loved Gavin back then, and Gavin had loved him just as brightly.

“Even then, he was himself,” Hank continued. “Smart, but he only obeyed the rules when it suited him. He was really a handful, the poster definition of a problem child. We were close, and back then he was basically part of my family.”

There was a silence in which Hank allowed himself to reminisce. He didn’t do it often, for Gavin’s memory was tied up to his better days: to his wife, and Cole, and happy days in the sun.

Even now, with Connor by his side, it hurt to remember. Perhaps it would always hurt to remember.

“He had feelings for you,” Connor said delicately, probably because Hank was an idiot and it needed to be said.

“Yeah.”

“You knew?”

“Well, I’m not a complete idiot,” Hank grimaced, because when he had been made Lieutenant that was something that happened on occasion, and he had recognized the feelings in Gavin's eyes even then.

“I never said you were,” Connor answered, neutrally.

In answer, Hank finished sitting up and took Connor’s hand in his, rubbing his thumb over perfect skin to communicate he was not upset with him.

“I know,” Hank said, simply. “It’s just...I knew, but I was married, and then he got together with his friend, Steve I think his name was. An asshole.” He frowned. “Fuck, they broke up didn’t they? I think it was shortly before…”

“Before the accident,” Connor finished, softly.

“Yes.”

It was a while before Hank could talk again.

“He tried to be there for me, after,” he confessed. “I was not...I was not very nice.”

“Gavin can be very unpleasant when he wants to,” Connor piped up, and Hank almost smiled, because god, he knew.

“Sure. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t an asshole too,” he concluded, sobering. The years after Cole died were sort of a blur, dulled by the alcohol Hank indulged to try to drown his pain in. 

Gavin was...Gavin. But yeah, he had tried to reach Hank, and Hank had pushed him away as harshly as he had everyone else in his life. There was a reason he was no longer married.

_ I get there’s no love lost between us _, Hank had told him, and jesus, what had possessed him to say that?

“God, he thought...he thought I abandoned him,” Hank choked out, face twisting, and that’s when Connor’s arm surrounded him. It was not a restrictive embrace, just Connor pulling Hank closer, enough so that Hank was leaning against him, Connor bearing some of his weight.

Hank closed his eyes. He turned his head until it was half-hidden in Connor’s shoulder, an uncomfortable position. Yet, because Connor understood that was what Hank needed, he welcomed the contact by lightly wrapping his arms around Hank as if to hide him, shielding him for a moment from the outside world.

“How am I going to face him now?” Hank asked. It was easier to talk like this, protected by Connor’s embrace, when there were only the two of them.

“The same way we all have to face those we love,” Connor said, gently, tangling his fingers in Hank’s hair, a familiar touch. “With courage and honesty.”

“Connor,” Hank choked out, overwhelmed. He loved Connor. He did not deserve Connor, and he figured that it was lucky for him that not everyone got what they deserved.

“I will be here, beside you. And at least I won't judge you,” Connor answered. “Will that be enough?”

“Yes,” Hank gasped, a prayer. “Yes,” he repeated, and finally, the tears that he had held back came to his eyes, unbidden. “I’m sorry, but can we remain like this a little longer?”

Connor kissed the top of his head. And by god but Hank had loved plenty of people in his life, and still it baffled him how he could feel so much for Connor now, how his shriveled heart found new ways to love him every day that he spent with the android.

“For as long as you need to,” Connor reassured him, and Hank believed him.

* * *

**3\. Laura & Rin** ****

The thing about being an android and being able to place a call and take it in your HUB, was that you had nothing to hold onto while you were talking with someone on the phone. 

It was something silly, but in these past months Rin had thought about it a lot. Humans, when they called someone they loved, held onto the phone, stared at it lovingly sometimes, a physical object in which they could project their affection in place of their loved one. 

Of course, the opposite was also true. Rin had seen more than one person angrily clutch their phones, grip so tight their knuckles turned white, as they yelled at the person at the other end of the line. 

They could also hold it close to their heart when they got good or bad news-- it was a tool, but also a proxy, a token, and Rin dearly wanted something to hold onto because she had nothing, and it made her feel adrift.

“Gavin’s being discharged tomorrow,” Rin concluded, and another disadvantage of talking on the phone with a human was that it was like she was talking to herself. She was pacing on the hallway just outside the room she shared with another android --who thankfully was not in right now-- and whoever walked into her, talking to no one and wildly gesturing to an invisible audience, would surely think she was insane. “But there’s more going on, and Nines is not dealing well.”

“He told you this?” Laura asked, on the other end of the line, and Rin desperately wished, not for the first time, to be back in Detroit.

“He didn’t need to tell me,” Rin answered, rubbing her forehead. “I could tell.”

The silence on the other end of the line was long.

“Do you want me to check on him?” Laura asked, and Rin didn’t need to see her to know how completely earnest she was.

“What I want is to be there. For him,” Rin answered, petulant. “Why did I think this would go well? I can’t do anything from here! I can’t do anything to help the people I love.”

“You do plenty,” Laura pointed out.

“Too little,” Rin replied, frustrated. “If I fly back…”

“No,” Laura answered, the world like a brick wall. Rin grimaced, because they had discussed this, and Rin was mid semester, and it was dumb to return --Nines hadn’t ask her to return-- except it wasn’t dumb because her friend needed her.

“I know!” Rin snapped. “But if I cannot be there…!”

“_ I _am here,” Laura said, and the way she said it was certain, absolute. She said it like it was an obvious fact: like the sun rose from the east, and the moon always weaned, and spring always came. I am here.

Rin stopped in her tracks.

“I understand,” Laura told her, voice soft. “You love him, and you want to help him. Because you’re away, you feel...useless,” it was a confession, and Rin’s eyes widened because she understood clearly what Laura was talking about. “You cannot hold him when he’s sad. You cannot take a good look at him until you’re satisfied. You cannot run to his side whenever you want to,” the woman finished, quietly. “But the things you do for him, Rin, the things you _ can _ do, they’re not little. They’re not less, just because you’re not here. Your love is not less.”

“Laura…” Rin whispered, and listened to the small sounds of the woman as she composed herself.

“You’re always there for him, and it’s enough,” Laura’s voice came small from the other side of the line, uncertain as she asked, “Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Rin immediately answered, perhaps a tad stronger than she meant to. “Yes, you’re right,” she added, thirium pump twisting when she heard Laura sniffle a little.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” Rin said. Slowly, she placed her back against the wall and slid down until she was sitting on the dirty carpet, just beside her door. “It’s me who was being an idiot.”

“Do you want me to check on him?” Laura repeated, and this time Rin nodded, unseen.

“Would you?”

“You love him,” Laura said, like it was reason enough, and it was “Even if I disliked him, I would look after him, simply because you love him.”

Rin closed her eyes, pressing her hands against her chest, where her thirium pump was humming quietly, like the wings of a hummingbird. 

_ You’re always there for him _, Laura had said. 

_ And you’re always here for me _, Rin wanted to answer.

Yes, Laura was right.

It was enough.

“I love you,” she said, instead, because there were no other words that could convey the enormity of what she was feeling.

“I love you too,” Laura answered, and it was strange, but Rin had the certainty that they understood each other, even if they were not physically together.

They talked for a little while longer, and by the time they hung up, Rin already knew what to do: she wrote to Nines, offering support and encouragement. He would not answer straight away, Rin didn’t think, so in the meantime, she would study and work hard. She would also socialize, meet new people, take care of herself. Then, when he needed her, she would be ready to help. 

  
  


* * *

**4\. Margaret & Oliver (& Nines)**

Margaret was of the very strong opinion that whoever had designed androids that didn’t have the ability to cry should go and rot in hell.

To say that she had been surprised when Nines appeared on her doorstep that afternoon was an understatement. He’d been absent for a couple of days --it was not unusual, with his job-- but even so, they had a ritual of sorts. 

Nines would always call on them in the evening. It would be close to the time Oliver was due to start getting ready for bed. Nines usually sat in the living room with Oliver and would seriously listen to everything Oliver had to say. Oliver loved him. Margaret could see it in the way the boy bloomed under Nines’ attention, bright and happy.

It had brought tears to Margaret’s eye in more than one occasion, because as much as Oliver loved Nines, it was obvious the android enjoyed the boy’s conversation too, and the idea that this...this _ stranger _ spent more time with Oliver than the boy’s own father made Margaret feel a maelstrom of contradictory things.

Then, after they chatted --a time Margaret never interrupted-- Nines would sit at the table with her, and she would bring a cup of thirium tea for him. They talked about adult things then, things that Oliver, already in bed, was too young to listen to, and as soon as the clock struck ten thirty, Nines always stood up and said goodbye to Margaret with a sweet kiss on the cheek.

It was a strange routine. A year ago, if someone had told her she’d become close friends with an android, Margaret would have laughed. And yet there she was, and Nines _ was _ a friend, the android with the scary face, and kind eyes and gentle opinions.

Margaret sometimes felt old, and still she never ceased being humbled by the way life went on, how absolutely things could change with so little warning.

And also, although she would never admit it, she prayed every night, silently, dutifully thanking whatever gods existed that she had been lucky enough to be set in this path, after so many years of loneliness.

So, all in all, when the doorbell rang that sunny afternoon of late May, the last person she expected to find at her door was Nines. But there he was, and as far as Margaret knew police androids could not cry, but she only had to take one look at Nines to know that was false, because, even if not outwardly, Nines _ was _ crying.

Instinct took over. It was not that she had been a mother for a long time, or that she was now again used to soothe her grandson. It was simply that someone dear to her was crying, so without a second thought she reached for him and pulled the tall android in a hug.

Nines’ story, when he told it, was too jumbled to be understood at first. Still, Margaret was patient, letting the android talk even when it took him a long time to find his words. And when she had the complete story --or was complete as Nines was capable of at the moment-- she didn’t judge him, even though this was an outcome she had long since seen coming.

In silence, she held Nines for a long time, and if she didn’t say anything it was because she could not lie to him. No one ever knew if things would be alright, and Margaret felt it was not her place to offer Nines such reassurance. Instead, she held him, gently petting his hair like she had done when her son --and now Oliver-- had been upset, and hoped that her presence would be comfort enough.

When the first loud meow came from the outside, Margaret startled.

From outside came the sound of the bus that dropped Oliver home from school, the sound of Sami already making a racket at the boy’s imminent arrival.

“Come with me, darling,” Margaret instructed Nines, and when the android obeyed, she guided him through the apartment and through a door to the right. The apartment only had two bedrooms, so her own would have to for now. “I don’t think you want Oliver to see you like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Nines whispered, and had he been a human he would have been sniffling. “I can go if you want.”

“Don’t be dense,” Margaret smiled, sitting him on the bed. “You’re going nowhere until you feel better, however long that takes.” Nines looked up at her, uncertain, and with his messy hair and his earnest eyes he looked heartbreakingly young. “However long it takes, do you understand? Don’t make me scold you for being stubborn.”

“Nana, I’m home!” Oliver yelled, slamming the front door as usual, and Margaret winced.

“I’m in my room, I’ll be out in a second!” she called, relieved when she heard the yelled _ okay! _ and the usual sounds of an eight year old prancing around the house without a care in the world.

“I think I’m going to go into stasis, if that’s okay?” Nines asked, voice low. “My systems need some maintenance. Is it okay…” he hesitated. “...if I do it here? I don’t want to be alone right now,” he finished, voice small.

“What did I just say?” Margaret prompted, ruffling Nines’ hair affectionately when his shoulders relaxed a little.

“As long as I need,” he repeated, and Margaret smiled.

“As long as you want,” she corrected, heart full of affection at Nines’ shyness.

She tucked him in bed. 

It was not necessary, and it was not even cold, but life was hard, and Margaret would be damned if she was not giving Nines the comfort of being safe in a cocoon of warmth. 

She was methodical in her preparations. She drew the blinds, making the room comfortably dark, pulled out all of her winter bedding from the closet. By the time she was done, Nines was bundled up, safe and comfortable, just letting Margaret take care of him in her own way without protest, perhaps feeling too raw to fight her fussiness.

“Margaret?” he called after she was done, looking small under the pile of blankets he was hidden under. “Thank you.”

For a moment, Margaret sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets up until only Nines’ nose was visible. Then, she smoothed a hand over them, and when she was satisfied he was properly tucked in, she looked down upon the blue eyes that were watching her with an intense emotion she could not place.

“You’re important to this family, Nines,” she told him, overcome by affection, because she thought he needed to hear it. “Don’t forget that.” 

Nines closed his eyes tightly, and, gently, Margaret wiped away a tear that had not fallen.

“We’ll be waiting for you, when you’re ready to join us, okay?” she asked, and when Nines noded, she finally left the room.

Outside her room the apartment was bright and Margaret shook herself. It was an effort, to change her frame of mind, but she needed to think about practical things now: dinner, for example, which she had been about to start when Nines had shown at her doorstep unannounced. 

On a whim, she decided to order pizza. She was not a fan of fast food, but it wouldn’t hurt her grandson to have some once in a while, and she herself felt like indulging. A large pizza, with extra cheese and pepperoni.

But first, she needed to check on Oliver.

She knocked on the boy’s half-closed door, relieved when she saw Oliver happily sprawled on the rug on the floor reading an illustrated encyclopaedia, Sami sitting on top of him and purring loudly.

“I’m sorry about that,” Margaret said. “Mr Nines is here, but he was not feeling well. He’s having a nap in my room. Would you like to have pizza for dinner?”

“Pizza!” Oliver yelled, because of course. He sat up, and, reluctantly, Sami jumped away and curled beside Oliver instead to promptly go back to sleep. “Nana, androids don’t sleep! He’s going into stasis!” the boy corrected, and then frowned as he finished processing Margaret’s words. “Is he okay?”

With a hidden sigh, Margaret pushed the door further open so she could walk in and sit on Oliver’s bed.

“Mr Nines made a mistake and hurt someone he loved,” she explained, because while she was not going to give Oliver details, it was best that he understood what was going on instead of leaving him to imagine god knows what.

“Was it the Detective?” Oliver asked, eyes alert and face serious, and Margaret wondered at children’s understanding.

“Yes.”

“Did he mean to?”

“No,” Margaret explained. “Sometimes, we can hurt people we love without meaning to.”

“Yeah, like me and Sami,” Oliver immediately answered, his small hand going to gently pet the cat’s orange fur. Margaret stared, stunned at his leap of logic. “I think Mr Nines should go and apologize to the Detective. I’m sure the Detective will want to hear his apology too.”

Margaret opened and closed her mouth, at a loss. It was a strange thing, hearing Oliver talk like this.

With kindness.

“…you’re so grown up,” she smiled, trying to swallow the ball of emotion stuck on her throat.

“Am not. I’ll be nine next month. That’s not grown up,” Oliver argued. “But that’s okay ‘cause I wanna be a Living Things Scientist when I grow up, and for that I have to learn lots of things. I need the time.”

“A living things scientist?” Margaret repeated. It was the first she heard of this.

“Yeah, Cecil and I decided,” Oliver explained with enthusiasm. “We don’t know what kind of job it is yet, but it means we’re gonna learn everything about all the things that are alive. Cecil wants animals and plants, so I get androids and humans.”

“I see.”

“Together, we are going to help everyone that needs help,” he concluded, and like that settled it, he went back to his book.

“I’m sure you will,” Margaret managed to answer, before leaving Oliver to order dinner.

However, when she made it to the kitchen, she stopped. She thought about how Nines had chosen to come to her in his moment of vulnerability, seeking comfort and safety, thought about Oliver’s bright eyes and kind determination, and felt so full of emotion that she could not contain it.

In the middle of the kitchen, Margaret thought about the trust that those she loved had placed on her, thought about the life she was lucky enough to share with them, thought back to her long, bitter days before them, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, after the instensity of last chapter, have some soft feels to hear your heart! this chapter happens chronologically, meaning Tina & Polly happens first, Connor & Hank a few hours after that, Laura & Rin a day or so later, and so on. I hope that's not too confusing!
> 
> I was hyped to finally unravel the deal between Gavin and Hank (sorry to dissappoint, but Hank isn't Gavin's ex!). they still have a lot to talk about, but it WILL happen, trust me!
> 
> also, I don’t know if I ever mentioned/explained this, but Polly is a PM700. and. she. is. GORGEOUS, okay? I had forgotten how stunning she is. she used to work in the precinct with Tina and Gavin, until she deviated and decided that the job wasn’t for her. It was her who approached Tina. Now that I think about it, I have a shit ton of backstory about Tina/Polly and basically none of it made it to the fic XD sorry about that.
> 
> finally, thanks for everyone that's been following this so far! we're very close to the end, and I've been looking forward to writing the culmination of these idiots' growth --both individually and as a couple. it's thanks to everyone's lovely support that I have been able to make it this far!


	11. Healing / To the Future

Although Nines had been fiddling with the necklace for a long time, the metal was still cold, unable to warm just from the touch of the android’s fingers.

In the small hours of the morning, the hospital’s waiting room was deserted. With the white light shining over immaculate walls and pale green chairs, the room looked otherworldly. Maybe it was a natural reaction to the stress of his day, but there, sitting alone and waiting the night out, Nines felt as if time had frozen.

Waiting.

He was waiting.

However, as he did, he wasn’t idle. First, he had sent an email to Rin updating her on the situation up to Tina arriving at the hospital, and asking his friend to cancel their nightly chat for the next few days. Then, Nines had sat in the empty waiting room and thought about the future.

Between Nines’ fingers, the silver metal of Gavin’s necklace felt comfortring. Tina had wordlessly handed it to him when she’d been packing Gavin’s belongings into the duffel bag she’d brought for the purpose.

Although Nines had seen Gavin plenty of times fiddle with the chain when he was upset, this was the first time he’d caught sight of the medal. It was the image of a saint, a man crossing a river, carrying a small child on his shoulders.

A quick internet search revealed it to be St. Christopher.

Nines frowned, once again wondering why Gavin wore this medal around his neck when he had never given any sign of being religious.

Still, Nines was grateful that Tina had given it to him. It was a comforting thing, to have the necklace with him now, a piece of Gavin to ground him in his anxiousness. Nines worried the medal with his thumb, wrapped the chain around his long fingers, and the constant fiddling helped him navigate the stormy sea that his mind had become of late.

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he was startled when his sensors picked the even cadence of steps coming his way.

When Hank walked into the waiting room he looked as exhausted as Nines felt. The man had circles under his eyes, and under the white light of the hospital there was no confusing the pallor of his face.

Hank’s steps faltered a little when he caught sight of Nines, as if he had been so lost in his thoughts that he had forgotten anything else existed.

Without warning, a bitter feeling trickled down Nines’ spine. It was cold, and corrosive, and Nines was somewhat surprised to recognize it as resentment. Hank had greatly hurt Gavin, but the android suspected that some of that resentment was directed at himself, for not asking something he should have from the start.

However, because Hank had always been kind to him, and the day had been ugly enough, Nines swallowed the feeling, praying that his blank face hid it as well as it hid all others.

Yet, on the other side of the waiting room, Hank looked uncertain. For a moment, Nines wondered if the man would turn on his heel and leave without saying a word. But then, under Nines’ eyes, something shifted in Hank’s expression, his face settling into what could only be described as brave resolution.

No longer hesitant, Hank crossed the room towards Nines, taking a seat beside him.

“How are you holding up?” he asked, and the answer was so complicated that Nines shrugged. Even though he had been practicing it, shrugging was not a gesture that came naturally to him. His shoulders were too stiff, the movement always coming as a strange sort of spasm.

Right then, Nines didn’t care. To comfort himself, he once again used the oval medal like a worry stone, the smooth underside of it pleasant to Nines’ sensors.

Out of nowhere, Hank tensed.

“That,” he said, the tightness of his voice making Nines look up. The man was staring at Nines’ hands, at the medal. “That’s Gavin’s” Hank finished, and it wasn’t a question.

Nines blinked, LED yellow. “Tina gave it to me,” he answered, trying not to sound like he was justifying himself. “Gavin wears it all the time.”

“_Fuck_,” Hank sighed. He closed his eyes, rubbing his face roughly in a gesture that Nines had seen on Gavin as well.

It took Hank a while to talk again, but Nines patiently waited. This time, he was determined to ask what he wanted to know, but Hank’s need to gather himself was so obvious that Nines waited. It was not like he was in a place in which he could demand anything from him.

When Hank finally spoke, his voice was small. It sounded frail in the sterile white room, brittle, like it would break if examined too closely.

“I gave it to him,” he confessed in a whisper. “So he could always find his way. It was my mother’s.”

Nines looked down at his hands, at the medal he was clutching, and although there was no logical reason to it, he felt his thirium pump ache keenly. Gavin had worn this necklace everyday, hidden under his shirt and close to his heart, and Nines felt like he would cry if he could.

“Do you know the legend behind it?” Hank asked, and Nines shook his head, unable to speak. “He was a strong man that wanted to serve the strongest king there ever was. He served different people until he became convinced that the strongest king was God,” Hank explained. “Then, when he couldn’t find God, he decided to use his strength to help people cross a dangerous river. One day, he took a small child upon his shoulders, and even though the boy was small, Christopher could barely carry him.

“Then, when they finally got to the other side of the river, he said to the child ‘I don’t think the world would have been heavier in my shoulders than you were’ and the boy looked at him and answered, ‘You did. You had on your shoulders not only the world, but the one who made it’.”

Hank stopped then, lips pressed tightly as he looked forwards. He looked somewhat calm, but his hands, which were resting over his knees, were clenched into fists.

“He’s the patron of travelers,” Hank said through gritted teeth. He sounded like it was difficult for him to say the words. “I gave it to him so he could always find his way home. And then I…” he choked out. “Fuck. I’ve really done him wrong, haven’t I? I never knew…I was far too gone to realize…”

“Gavin has a picture at home of you two together,” Nines said then. “The same one that you have inside of the second volume of your Sherlock Holmes collection.”

Hank’s attention shifted to Nines immediately, but Nines didn’t hide from the man’s gaze. After the day he had, he was beyond feeling embarrassment at having confessed he had been snooping around Hank’s bookshelves.

Hank, however, didn’t look as much concerned about that as surprised. He sighed, defeated, and deflated a little, sinking unto the uncomfortable hospital chair.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Hank mumbled, and told Nines a story from long ago.

It was a long story, and it took Hank a long time to tell, but in the timelessness of the waiting room he told it.

He told Nines about how Gavin had been when he was younger-- rough, and harsh, full of bravado around the edges. All those things he still was, but it had been worse when he’d been young, always alert for something --someone-- that might hurt him.

Hank spoke about the early conflict ridden days in which Gavin had pushed and pushed, the long journey to earn Gavin’s trust. Hank had guided him as best he could, and was rewarded when Gavin began to respect him, seeking his advice.

And then, more slowly, Hank talked about his family. Cole had been enamored of Gavin, and Gavin had favored the boy, often babysitting him when Hank and his wife needed alone time.

This last thing truly surprised Nines, for Gavin had never given any sign of liking children. And yet, as he quickly went over his memories, he remembered that strange moment during his birthday at the library when Gavin had looked at Oliver and Cecil with keen sorrow, and Nines realized that Cole, had he lived, would have been around the same age as the children.

Nines said nothing of this to Hank. Instead, he listened.

Sometimes, it was difficult for Hank to keep talking, and when this happened Nines never pressured him, waiting politely until Hank had gathered himself and could continue.

“Thank you,” Nines told Hank, sincerely. “For sharing this with me.”

Hank mumbled an answer, but Nines was no longer listening. He toyed with the medal again, running his thumb back and forth over the image of the man carrying the child. It was strange, but there, under the harsh light of the hospital room, Nines felt that he saw Gavin clearly for the first time.

A man that carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Gavin had told him about his ex. Listening to Hank’s story, it wasn’t too difficult to connect the dates. Gavin had lost a lot of people important to him during the same year. It was no wonder Tina was so protective of him. Had Gavin allowed himself to grieve Cole? How must it have felt to lose over half of your world almost at the same time? To be abandoned without warning by one of the people you trusted the most, and then losing your mentor, too?

Nines swallowed, almost overcome by emotion.

When he’d been distressed and under the pain medications, Gavin had been convinced Nines was going to leave him too.

It hurt. It hurt so much, but still Nines wanted nothing but to go back into Gavin’s room and kiss him, hold him, because whatever had happened to him, Gavin had enough defiance in him to be kind even so. And, for better or for worse, he had bore the weight of that all on his own.

Nines barely heard when Hank’s phone rang. He was vaguely aware of his surroundings, his systems providing him with data that was not relevant at the moment.

It was only when Hank rested a hand on his shoulder that Nines became aware enough to raise his eyes.

“I have to go home if I want to get at least two hours of sleep. I’ll be back as soon as I’m able,” Hank explained, apologetically, but he was frowning. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”

“He will not,” a cool voice interrupted. Polly’s heels clacked loudly on the tiled floor as she approached them. “I will stay with him for as long as necessary.”

Hank blinked, although if surprised by her sudden appearance or stunned by the sight of her, Nines didn’t know. Dressed in red, Polly made the dull waiting room feel alive, and Nines was grateful for it, even if red was a color he personally disliked.

“Thank you,” Hank said, and when he left, after again reassuring Nines he’d be back, Nines sent a message to Connor just to let him know Hank was on his way.

“Tina sent me to tell you that it’s okay if you’re in the room with her,” Polly said, taking the seat beside Nines that Hank had vacated. “And that loving Gavin isn’t a competition.”

Nines bowed his head, closing his eyes. He had never before found it hard to receive kindness, but the way that the people around him were so considerate of his feelings --the way they cared for him-- made him feel like crying.

He had made so many mistakes, but he was so lucky.

He was so lucky he had met all these people.

“I’ll go,” he said, voice choked, and Polly rested a hand on his back.

“It doesn’t need to be right away.”

Nines had not been given the ability to cry. It had been deemed redundant for him, an android meant to be a deviant hunter. Unlike Connor, he had not been made to integrate.

However, Nines was alive, and he had emotions-- strong emotions that needed a way to be expressed.

No, Nines couldn’t cry. Not with tears, at least.

But even so, with Polly’s hand soothingly rubbing his back, he finally gave into the impulse and, hiding his face in his hands, tearlessly, silently, he wept.

* * *

The silence in the car was heavy.

From the back seat, Gavin stared out of the window, stubbornly avoiding looking at Nines.

They’d been silent since they left the hospital. He had only been in there for two days, and, strangely, when he had been at the hospital he had been able to look at Nines and not to think too much about his appalling behavior when he’d been drugged up to his eyeballs.

Now, with Nines silently sitting beside him on the automated taxi, Gavin felt his stomach twist with anxiety and shame at the memory. He wished that at least he didn’t remember his breakdown, wished Nines hadn’t been there for it, wished he could have shut his fucking mouth and not spouted out all the soul baring shit he had.

Slowly, Gavin breathed out, trying to settle his nerves. His shoulder throbbed dully, a constant ache in time with his heartbeat, and he concentrated on that, using the pain to ground himself and trying to ignore the way the tension increased the closer they got to Gavin’s apartment.

Jesus, revealing his fucked up self to Hank was one thing, but having showed it to Nines was the absolute worst.

Absentmindedly, he pulled from the chain around his neck until he felt the metal of the medal on his fingers, fidgeting with it. Nines had given it back to him before they left the hospital. He had had a strange look in his eyes when he had handed it to Gavin, but Gavin had pretended not to notice.

This, truly, was it. The moment Gavin had dreaded the most since he realized his feelings for Nines.

It seemed unfair, to him, that he had tried so hard only for some dumb drugs to loosen his tongue.

Unbidden, fear rose within him, pushing Gavin towards the sharp edge of a panic attack. He had tried so hard for Nines not to see how fucked up he was, to not hasten Nines’ realization of how Gavin was a handful, how much better he’d be without him. And now, they would talk about how needy and insecure Gavin truly was, and Nines would leave him.

Gavin tried to control his breathing.

He was not ready for Nines to leave him.

The taxi happily chimed when they reached their destination, and Gavin was out almost before the motor had turned off. Dizziness overtook him when the fresh air hit his face, but he didn’t care. He leaned back against the car, raised his face towards the sky and breathed deeply, soothed by the feeling of no longer being trapped in a small space awaiting for a conversation that he dreaded more than anything in the world.

Nines was still silent as he carried Gavin’s belongings for him. It was only the duffel bag Tina had packed for him, and Gavin would have argued that an arm in a cast didn’t make him unable to carry it-- except he was too busy pretending everything was fine to risk a confrontation.

He didn’t look at Nines when the android gallantly opened the door of the building for him. The hallway was dark and cool, silent, and somehow it felt foreign to Gavin, like he was returning to someplace he once knew after being absent for ages.

However, the tranquility of the place didn’t lessen the tension Gavin felt, the weight resting on his shoulders. Instead, it got heavier the closer they got to Gavin’s door. He could already hear Fliss yelling from the other side, and by the time he finished fumbling with the key, one handed, he felt he was about to snap under the pressure.

“Gavin…” Nines began, and nope. No. Gavin was not having this conversation. He couldn’t.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” he said instead, holding a hand for the bag, which Nines passed over without a fuss. “Now if you excuse me…”

“We have to talk about—”

“Nope. Nope, not doing this today, Nines, sorry—”

“Gavin—”

“Need to rest, thank you for everything—”

“Please, listen to me—”

“Bye, Nines,” Gavin said and closed the door on Nines’ face.

It was only when the door had closed that the panic slammed against Gavin’s chest with such force that made him stumble. He drew in a shaky breath, and slowly slid down the door, curling into himself in a ball of misery.

Fliss was at Gavin’s side in a second, purring and bumping against him, and Gavin pulled her gracelessly onto his lap with one arm, hiding his face on her soft fur. She meowed in complaint, disgruntled at being so treated, but after twisting a little to get comfortable, she tucked her little head under Gavin’s chin and purred loudly, testament of how much she had missed Gavin the past few days.

This, which would usually have been enough to calm Gavin, didn’t help him this time, for he was too lost in his self hatred for any kindness to reach his heart.

Violently, viciously, Gavin hated himself. He hated the way his heart was racing, how the fear almost made it impossible to breathe. He hated that he had closed the door on Nines, that he didn’t have the courage to listen to what he had to say.

Gavin stayed there, curled with his back against the door, for a long time. He did not know how long he struggled, thoughts dark and bitter. His heart and mind were a storm, tearing each other brutally appart in that way that’s meant only to destroy, and who knows how that would have ended, but Gavin was startled out of these ugly thoughts by his name being called in a very soft, gentle voice.

“Gavin,” Nines’ voice said, and it took Gavin’s addled mind a couple of seconds to realize Nines was still on the other side of the closed door.

Gavin swallowed, and for a heart stopping moment all he wanted was Nines. To open the door and throw himself in Nines’ arms, hold unto him with everything he had.

The thought was so overpowering that Gavin’s body began to move, uncurling and half turning --which left Fliss with no other option but to jump to the floor, confused and offended-- before panic once again froze him into place.

“It’s fine if you can’t open the door,” Nines said from behind the door, and his voice was so loving and understanding that Gavin raised his good hand to his mouth to muffle the sob that threatened to leave him. “If the only way you can listen to me is this, then it’s fine by me.”

There was a small pause in which the only sound was the loud hammering of Gavin’s heart.

“I owe you an apology,” Nines continued, and Gavin blinked, confused. “What I did was not okay. Joining the DPD the way I did... I was too conceited to realise I was using you as an excuse. Please forgive me. I was immature, and childish, and unfair to you. To place that burden on your shoulders…when it was only me who decided. When it was me who should have looked after my own happiness.”

There was a shuddering sound, almost like a sob, and then, “I’m sorry! I wanted to be kind to you but I only caused you hurt. I’m so, so sorry…!”

“Sorry?” Gavin mouthed, unable to catch up. Wasn’t Nines supposed to break up with him? Wasn’t Gavin the one that had fucked up?

Why…?

Why was Nines apologizing then?

“I know you are hurt,” Nines continued. “I know that I hurt you too, and I understand that my affection cannot heal you. That perhaps you won’t be able to believe my words. But Gavin, I love you. I love you, and even at those times when you cannot believe it, my love will still be yours, as long as you want it.”

Gavin’s breath came in like a gasp, and he covered his mouth again, tears coming to his eyes at Nines’ honest confession.

“What I feel for you is not...it’s not a lukewarm feeling. I have no doubts. It might have started because I was lonely, but...I am so glad it was you. That in this world, you are alive, and it was me you found. That I got to meet you.” On the other side of the door, Nines’ voice trembled. “I am so glad that you’re alive. That’s all.”

The silence after that felt like an eternity, and even after he heard Nines’ steps retreating and fading away, Gavin remained on the floor, looking at nothing, tears running down his face.

He didn’t know what to feel anymore. It was too much. There was a strange numbness creeping into his heart, a cold, honest confusion at Nines’ words.

He repeated Nines’ little speech in his mind again, and again.

Too much.

The words felt distant, like Nines had switched to a language that Gavin didn’t understand, because he had apologized.

Nines had apologized.

Why? For his decision of getting into the DPD?

_He realized you’re not worth it_, the ugly little voice inside Gavin’s head whispered, except no, that was not what Nines had said.

_He loves me_, Gavin repeated to himself, breath coming in short gasps, although this time it wasn’t because of the panic.

Hope and fear were warring inside him-- the incapacitating fear of loss fighting against Gavin’s wish to believe in Nines.

He wanted to believe, but if Nines left him, Gavin was sure he would not be able to survive that.

Gavin sat there, fighting with himself, until the sun began to set, the room shedding the sun’s bright light in favor of the soft golds and oranges of twilight. From the kitchen, Fliss meowed, scratching a cupboard as she did when she wanted a treat. Something in Gavin reacted to the noise, made him stand up with difficulty and stumble towards the kitchen like a zombie.

And like a zombie he fed himself, eating the take out Tina had left for him in the fridge.

_Can’t you rely on me?_ Nines had asked him once, and no, Gavin hadn’t. He hadn’t, but he had wanted to. Had wanted to be held and soothed and loved, except, who would want to love someone like him?

He startled when Fliss jumped into the couch next to him, although not because of her --her weight and presence could never startle Gavin-- but because her movement toppled over the book Gavin had been reading onto the floor.

_The Return of the King_.

Gavin had been startled when Nines had returned the book to him, a couple of weeks back. After he had finished with _The Two Towers_, he had regretted throwing it away more than once, chiding himself for his actions during his fit of pique.

He'd never expected to see the book again, and had been considering buying another copy when Nines presented it to him with an explanation: he'd seen the corner of it peeking from the bin beside Gavin's desk and had rescued it, intent on returning it even if back then he hadn't been sure Gavin would ever talk to him again.

Gavin's movements were sluggish as he picked up the book, and because he was so out of sorts, and he was not going to be able to sleep anyway, and he didn’t know what else to do, he opened it randomly.

It seemed somehow fitting that his eyes landed on the chapter where Frodo was captured and taken to the Tower of Cirith Ungol. Nines had read that chapter to him once, in what felt ages ago, and Gavin had fallen asleep to his voice, safe and secure and still unaware of his feelings.

Distractedly, he read on, the words familiar. Sam’s despair, his loyalty, and then his luck. When Sam couldn’t find Frodo, Gavin frowned. With a thundering heart, he read of Sam’s hopelessness, of the way the darkness enveloped him like the tide. And then, when all seemed lost, words sung to the abyss.

_Though here at journey's end I lie_

_in darkness buried deep…_

Gavin stopped reading, tears running down his face.

He’d been trying to protect himself from hurt, but it obviously hadn’t worked because he felt like some wild beast was clawing at his heart. But if believing and not believing in love were both painful, then there was no answer. No escape.

Check mate.

_Beyond all towers strong and high_

_beyond all mountains steep..._

If hurt was inevitable either way…

As he kept reading, suddenly it occurred to Gavin that those thoughts were not normal. That was not how sane people thought. In a moment of clarity, he saw the path before him clearly: living always like this, not knowing when the rug would be pulled from under his feet, hating himself, working himself to exhaustion, or... trying to move forward.

God, he didn’t even know if he could.

But Nines had apologized, had said he loved him, and shit, Gavin was sure this was not how a person was supposed to feel when the person you loved said they loved you back. _Can’t you rely on me?_ he had asked, and it was like trying to break through a glass wall, like something he wanted more than life itself was his for the taking, if only he could break through the wall and hold it.

Lost, he looked at words on the page once more, read the small poem again and again, until the words made no sense, until everything was a blur.

His hands were shaking as he hit the autodial on his phone. The ringing tone sounded once, twice, and on the third time a familiar voice said his name, alert.

“Gavin?” Tina asked. “Are you okay?”

Gavin trembled, tears catching on his lashes.

“No,” he choked out. It hurt to admit what he saw as a failing. Even though it was one single word it took out a lot from him to say it, the word ripped from his throat, coming out small and frail like the shard of glass that’s shattering. “Tina, I’m not okay,” he admitted. “I think...I need help.”

“I’ll be there in 20 minutes,” Tina answered immediately, no questions asked, and Gavin closed his eyes, overwhelmed. He loved her. God, he loved her. “Will you hold out that long?”

“Shit, Teeny, I’m not...I’m not going to…” he swallowed. “Yeah. I’ll...I’ll be here.”

“Good,” she said, and covered the phone for a second to briefly talk to someone before returning to Gavin. “I’ll be there soon. I love you.”

Love.

Yes.

“Love you too,” Gavin managed to whisper, and then, curled on his couch with a cat and Tolkien for company, preparing himself for a long night, he waited for the future to come.

* * *

In the building next door, bundled up in flowery winter bedding and Margaret’s kindness, Nines sniffled one last time and went into a much needed stasis.

* * *

Healing happened slowly.

The first week was the hardest. Gavin’s first therapy session was on a hot, sunny Friday morning, two days after he had called Tina for help.

Oscar was a heavy set, soft spoken man from latino descent. He had been Tina’s therapist on and off for ten years, helping her cope with the way her parents had kicked her out when she was young, which was all the recommendation Gavin needed as far as he was concerned. Furthermore, the way he listened made Gavin feel like he was not being judged, which helped him open his mouth and be as brutally honest as he could.

That first session, which was different than Gavin had thought it’d be because they mostly talked about goals and aims, Tina waited for Gavin in the parking lot, her green car parked under the shade of a big oak tree.

“How did it go?” she asked, handing him a sandwich as she crammed the last bite of hers into her mouth with the gracelessness of someone that feels absolutely zero need to impress the other person.

“Good, I guess?” Gavin eyed the sandwich --grilled chicken, his favorite-- and even though he wasn’t hungry he tore a corner of the bread and ate it because Tina had made it clear that he had to eat three times a day no matter what. “At least now I know I’m not fucking crazy.”

“Fuck, Gavin,” Tina grimaced. “Of course you’re not crazy!”

Gavin took a bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly to give himself time to tame the relief that threatened to spill from his chest.

“Sometimes I thought I was,” he confessed, voice low, and Tina reached for his hand and wove their fingers together, squeezing softly.

One of the first, most immediate changes that Oscar brought to Gavin’s life, was changing his sleep medication. Gavin had been prescribed medicine for his insomnia a long time ago, but he seldom took it because of how groggy and moody it made him feel when he woke up.

Oscar had frowned while listening to Gavin, and then proceeded to inform him that not being able to sleep wasn’t a trait of human beings and arranged an appointment with someone that could assess and prescribe something different for him.

And it turned out that actually being able to sleep more than three hours in a row made a huge difference. After that first eight hour stretch, as if his body had decided to cash in the situation, he spent the next few days either napping or eating, too exhausted to do anything else.

He felt guilty at first, which he brought up on his next therapy session later in the week.

“Do you still feel unstable or upset when you wake up?” Oscar asked and Gavin shook his head no, because in fact he had never slept better than this past week. “Then it’s normal, Gavin. You are recovering from a physical injury. And more than that, you were under a great deal of stress before that. This is the first time you have given yourself a break in a long time, so it’s only natural that your body is taking advantage to recover.”

That day, they talked about Nines.

It was a difficult conversation, and Gavin found, with utmost mortification, that he couldn’t talk about his feelings for Nines without crying.

Oscar, however, didn’t seem disturbed or uncomfortable in the least by Gavin’s emotional outburst. He simply handed Gavin a box of paper tissues and asked his questions, listening patiently as Gavin sorted things out by talking them aloud.

And it was a relief, really, being able to tell this to someone without having to worry he’d overwhelm them. He was sure he’d have to talk about that too eventually, but he hadn’t realized until that moment how much energy he spent everyday reading other people’s moods, trying to figure out if he’d be too much for them and censoring himself accordingly. By the end of the session he felt raw, and it was not like he had fixed everything, but he felt lighter, and it was enough.

When he returned home that afternoon, after napping again and playing with Fliss, Gavin found himself without anything to do. He had been given a week of leave, and even though he only had two days left, having time for himself was a novelty.

Gavin paced a little, verging on the edge of anxiousness. It was strange, not having anyone to take care of. No cases to solve. No one else to focus on.

Nines.

Gavin sighed. Thinking about Nines, although he had done little else during the week, was complicated. After he had apologized through the door, Nines had not contacted Gavin at all. To be honest, Gavin was grateful for the space.

In other circumstances --- hell, even just a week ago-- Gavin knew he would be panicking over Nines’ silence, worrying if the android had finally decided to leave him. But it was as if his breakdown (or maybe the restful nights) had drained all of the anxiety from him because he felt calmer, strangely balanced, and although he still felt afraid, the feeling was blunter, tamer, less overwhelming, like a sharp stone that had been sanded by the sand at the bottom of a river.

Feelings felt more manageable now, and so Nines’ silence didn’t worry him.

No, instead, what concerned him was _his_ silence. He wanted to reassure Nines that he was, if not okay, dealing with all this shit as best as he could. He wanted to make sure Nines was okay, that he was taking care of himself, that he was not pushing himself again.

He missed him. He missed him keenly, and it felt good to accept it so freely, without anything dark to get in the way of his longing.

And yet, the thought of talking to Nines was paralyzing. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, but whenever Gavin tried to put them in some sort of order, the words vanished, blinked out of existence like little candles blown out by the wind.

“Don’t punish yourself. Sometimes words are like flowers,” Oscar had said earlier that day. “You have the seeds inside you, but you have to nurture them before they bloom.” Which had been an incredibly embarrassing thing to say, but one, Oscar didn’t give a fuck about what could be considered riddiculous or not, and two, it made a strange sort of sense to Gavin.

It was Fliss’ chirp that startled Gavin out of his thoughts. The cat was sprawled on the floor, tummy up, enjoying a golden puddle of light that was quickly fading away as the sun set between the buildings.

Gavin’s apartment was in a corner, so the way the windows were distributed meant that he could look out either at the street or at the cat alley via the fire escape. The way the building was oriented meant that his apartment didn’t get sun the whole year-- only during spring and summer. That, coupled with the fact that he was seldom home before sundown, made Gavin realize he didn’t remember the last time he had seen the sun filtering through his front windows.

Happy, Fliss purred, twisting playfully even as her puddle of sun faded, and something strange took hold of Gavin at the sight.

“Come on,” he told Fliss, grabbing her leash, cooing nonsense when she allowed herself to be harnessed, always agreeable to going outside.

She seemed a bit confused when Gavin went upstairs instead of down, but after a few seconds of consideration --and Gavin clicking his tongue, giving the command to come-- she followed.

The door to the roof creaked when Gavin pushed it open. After the semi darkness of the building’s hallways, the roof felt open, fresh, the wind cool and soothing against Gavin’s flushed face.

Gavin took a step forward and stumbled, awed by the sight before him.

Above his head, the sky was painted gold and orange. It was cloudy, and thus the clouds hid the sun, but all this did was set them on fire, light spilling occasionally through them, the glimmer making Gavin blink sporadically.

It was beautiful. Gavin’s heart beat hard in his chest as he watched, Fliss curiously sniffling around his feet. He didn’t remember the last time he’d watched a sunset like this, without hurry, but now Gavin drank the sight in, watching the sky change colors from orange to pink to purple, until it finally settled into blue.

He watched for a while, thinking about nothing but the beauty of the sky, feeling nothing but the wind on his face, surrounded by a sweet silence. And when the sky was finally dark, a single star shone brightly between the clouds, and it was incredibly dumb but it was such a pure thing, the untouched light above the clouds, that Gavin felt moved to tears.

Gavin was subdued when he returned to his apartment. He felt strange, detached, light but raw. Because he couldn’t carry groceries as he normally would, he ordered some to be delivered --along with five cartons of ice cream because why the fuck not-- and, when his order arrived, he set to make dinner for Tina.

It was difficult to cook with one arm, but Gavin resigned himself to the fact that it would still be better than take out.

And, surely, it was not a work of art, but when Tina came home it was to Gavin cooking, all the lights on and music in the background, and she ate every single bite with gusto and demanded seconds.

“I’m sort of salty that you’re a good cook even with one arm,” she sighed once they were comfortably curled on the couch, each with a carton of ice cream, stuffing their faces without any decency or remorse.

“It was not that good,” Gavin answered, the words he had programmed into himself to say time after time. “The vegetables were badly chopped, so they didn’t cook evenly. The texture was weird.”

“Who cares if it was not perfect? You made it for me,” she shrugged, and Gavin blinked.

_Huh_, he thought, stupidly. It was like a candle had been lit somewhere, shedding light in the darkness, like a crack like a spider web had run through a glass wall that needed to be shattered.

Tina’s words shouldn’t have made him feel like crying, but they fucking did.

“Ah, fuck this,” Gavin shrugged, and because he was tired, and really what the fuck, he allowed himself to cry and didn’t care one bit.

* * *

The next day, Gavin woke up in the middle of the night.

As common as this was for him, that time it was different. That night, Gavin woke up slowly, coming out of a sweet and deep sleep. He felt rested, relaxed, like he could drift off again if only he turned around and closed his eyes again.

Beside him, Tina’s breathing was even and comforting, and Gavin yawned, peering at the clock sitting on his side table out of habit.

Three in the morning.

Normally, Gavin would grumpily get out of bed, fighting the anxiety of having to go through another sleepless night.

He didn’t feel the need to do so this time. Instead, if he went out of bed it was because his injured arm ached a little, so when he left the bed he fully intended to get a glass of water and come straight back to bed.

It was muscle memory that made him grab his phone, and he only noticed he had it in his hand when he needed it to open a cupboard.

Rolling his eyes at himself, Gavin placed his phone on the kitchen counter while he got himself a glass of water. From across the room, Fliss peered at him from the top of the cat shelves Gavin had installed for her, eyes shining in the weak light of the moon that came through the window.

It was the moonlight which did it.

Out of nowhere, Gavin remembered a similar night -- although at the same time not similar at all-- in which he had read Nines’ love letter. It was funny, in a twisted sort of way, how that unassuming letter had been so important for their relationship. The letter Nines had pretty much apologized for writing.

Except for the love part, Gavin thought, and blushed. Nines had definitely not apologized for that part.

It was easier, in the darkness.

Protected by it, by the mantle of the night, Gavin grabbed his phone and texted, clumsily because he was used to having two thumbs to type.

_> sorry about last time_

He hit send before he could chicken out, and was about to turn around to put the empty glass in the sink when his phone lit up, the answer to his message coming almost immediately.

**<<** _How are you?_

Gavin smiled at the three little words, always amused by Nines’ very correct punctuation. He tried to imagine him now, probably reading even though it was the middle of the night, and, with a pang, he realized he had never visited Nines’ place so he didn’t know what it looked like.

Something to fix soon, hopefully.

However, once the initial warmth receded a little, Gavin was left staring at the question. It was a loaded one, because it had so many answers. He didn’t want to worry Nines, but he didn’t want to lie to him anymore, and his therapist had said…

Well, that maybe Gavin should take the risk. When he was ready.

> _not very well,_ was what he sent in the end, and even though there were only three words, it took Gavin fifteen minutes to gather the courage to hit send.

Nines, of course, answered immediately.

**<<** _Is there anything I can do to help?_

Gavin snorted. He wished he knew himself.

_> I don’t know_

_> I’m going to therapy_

_> I’m thinking about taking a break from work for a while_

This time, Nines took longer to answer, the little text bubble going on and off several times. Curiously, Gavin wondered how that worked. Nines was an android, so he sent messages directly from his HUB. He had always figured androids sent messages almost telepathically, although apparently they had to type too, but in their minds.

It was while before Gavin’s phone chimed again, and by that time he had already curled on the couch, under his blankets.

**<<** _I’m proud of you_, Nines answered and Gavin swallowed, warmth washing over him at the unexpected praise.

**<<** _I hope that didn’t come across as condescending._

Gavin chucked.

> _nah, you’re good_

**<<** 😊

**<<** _I’m here for whatever you need._

> _thx_

It took Gavin a few tries to word what he wanted to say next.

_> there’s a lot I want to say to you, just not yet_

And then, because it was not like he had overcome his fear suddenly:

> _is that okay?_

Nines’ answer was quick.

**<<** I understand. Take as long as you need.

**<<** I will always be here for you.

**<<** ❤️

Gavin chuckled, wetly, because god, he really loved Nines.

_> thanks_

His heart beat quickly as his fingered hovered over the little symbol. It felt momentous, somehow, like a promise of sorts.

He could not say the words yet. He could not, but still he wanted Nines to understand, to make him know his feelings.

_I love you too._

> ❤️

* * *

Walking into the precinct after the week-long leave felt strange.

It had only been a week, but it felt like an age had passed, each day an era.

Maybe that was why it surprised Gavin how everything seemed unchanged. He followed Tina into the building, and everything --the sounds of chattering, the smell of cleaning products and awful coffee-- was as it had been for the last ten years or so.

“Looks like you’re popular,” Tina teased before taking the stairs down to the locker room, pointing towards Gavin’s desk, because even from the entrance of the precinct, Gavin could see the card, the balloons and colorful boxes that covered his desk with well wishes.

He snorted, both amused and touched. This was the first time his coworkers had made a fuss about his absence.

“Hey Reed, welcome back!” Collins called out when Gavin passed in front of his desk, “Great job with Thompson’s case.”

“Thanks,” Gavin answered, feeling odd. It had been barely more than a week, but the arrest felt far away. Had he not been injured, he would have followed the paperwork for the man’s trial, and the fact that he hadn’t made him with a feeling of disconnect, like it hadn’t been Gavin who made the arrest.

Absently, he made a mental note to call Sarah for an informal catch up. She _had_ said to call her whenever after all.

He accepted a few more congratulations on his way to his desk, and when he was finally in front of it, he sighed a little. A big get well card took the place of honor in the center of his desk, signed by what seemed half of the DPD. The colorful boxes turned out to be chocolate and candy of all sorts --and a box of mint chocolate buried at the bottom, Gavin was looking forward to that-- and the balloons were the gaudiest he had ever seen in his life. It was obvious someone had had a lot of fun picking them out.

And then, near the edge of the desk, as if shyly away from the rest of the bright gift, a medium sized cat plushie was staring at Gavin with its small beady eyes. It was incredibly soft to the touch, and the calico pattern of the toy’s fur gave away who this gift must be from.

Gavin looked around, looking for Nines, surprised that he wasn’t anywhere.

“Detective!” someone called him from his left, and Gavin didn’t have to turn to know that it was Connor.

The android’s LED was a happy blue as he approached Gavin, but his friendly smile immediately put Gavin on guard.

“How are you?” Connor asked with enthusiasm. “You look well.”

Gavin bristled at these words, an instinctive, defensive reaction. This past week he had felt too tired to shave with one hand, and thus his usual stubble was attempting to take the shape of a beard.

Right then, in the middle of the precinct, looking at Connor so neatly put together and without a hair out of place, Gavin couldn’t help but feel ungroomed, and wished he had at least tried to make the effort.

However, before he could snap at Connor out of habit, he took a deep breath and deliberately stopped himself. Nothing in Connor’s voice or body language pointed to sarcasm, or to being mocking. Rather, Connor seemed earnest, like he was legitimately happy to see Gavin out and about. And this, more than anything, gave him pause.

He doubted himself.

Gavin’s default estate was to doubt-- whenever someone was kind to him, or even polite, he always assumed it was fake, tried to read between the lines to find the person’s hidden motives. Always overanalyzing, always on alert.

It was exhausting, and although it was something that had greatly served him as a detective, he shouldn’t have to live feeling like he was about to have a meltdown because someone was concerned about his well being.

With a start, he realized that Connor had been polite to him last time as well, on Nines’ birthday party, and Gavin wondered if he hadn’t overanalyzed Connor’s words that time also. He had the impression he might have gotten the wrong thing from that conversation too.

Making another note to talk to Oscar about it --god, at this pace he was going to be in therapy forever-- he decided to let it go. He let it go, and instead smirked a Connor, grinning a little.

“Thanks, tin can,” he answered, light and teasing. “Can’t say the same about you.”

Connor’s eyes widened a little, and Gavin was about to curse himself for his misstep when Connor chuckled.

“I’m telling that to my brother,” he smiled, brown eyes warm, and Gavin remembered when this same expression made his skin crawl, he’d found it so fake.

“That’s a creepy thing to say to him,” Gavin grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not,” Connor argued. “We look the same. If you find me distasteful it stands to reason you don’t like his looks either.”

“Are you fucking with me? You don’t look alike at all.”

Connor smiled, and under his gaze Gavin suddenly felt embarrassed, like he had given away too much. Also, there was the fact that Connor’s gaze was full of approval, and it sort of made Gavin want to dig a hole and hide.

“Welcome back, detective,” Connor said softly, and Gavin mumbled an excuse to go hide into Captain Fowler’s office.

Fowler’s was one of the two conversations he needed to have that day and it went better than expected. He was honest with the man, because Fowler had always been honest and fair to Gavin, and Gavin knew he wasn’t in any state to serve adequately.

“So, I haven’t been dealing well with...anything, basically,” Gavin concluded after he gave Fowler the spark notes of both his breakdowns and his week. “I know my sick leave ends today, but I wanted to see if I could take my holidays too. I really need the time to, well. Get better.”

_Heal_, he didn’t say, although it was the truth.

“Reed, I owe you three _years_ of holidays, of course you can take time off, especially because you’re not really going on vacation,” the man pointed out. “Well, it’s going to be a pain in the ass because it’s so sudden, and that’s two detectives we’ll be short for the foreseeable future, but…”

“Wait, someone quit?” Gavin asked, surprised, because Tina hadn’t shared this particular piece of gossip with him.

Fowler looked at him strangely.

“Nines handed in his two weeks notice yesterday,” he said, and for a heart-stopping moment, Gavin’s world froze.

Betrayal climbed up his ribs like poison ivy at the thought that Nines had not shared this with him, had not told him about something important _once more_ \-- except…

No.

No.

Taking a deep breath, Gavin closed his eyes. He was doing things he had to do by himself, to be well and heal, and Nines...if there was one thing Gavin could be certain about, was that Nines must be doing this as well.

Trust.

It was hard, but he’d wait. This time, he’d wait to talk things through before jumping to conclusions.

“I see,” he said, at last, voice neutral.

“He didn’t tell you,” Fowler grimaced. “You two are a handful, jesus…”

And Gavin smiled, weakly, but said no more. There was no need.

In the end, because Gavin couldn’t take all of his time off at the same time, he got ten more days approved.

“Let’s talk about how you’re doing when you return,” Fowler added, and then his expression softened. When he stood from behind his desk, and offered his hand to Gavin, it was to pull him into a careful hug, mindful of Gavin’s injured arm. “You’re making a good call, son, taking care of yourself. Not many people know when to step back,” and Gavin flustered, because this was a man he respected, and had always coveted his approval and his praise. “Let me know if there’s any other way I can help.”

“Thank you,” Gavin answered, choked, too emotional to say anything else.

And yet, when the door of the office closed behind him, Gavin was smiling.

He felt light, free.

Like he had made a good choice for once.

* * *

The second important conversation he needed to have ended up being way more difficult, but it was one he had long postponed.

It was close to lunch time when Gavin left Fowler’s office, and after taking a few moments to pull himself together --and gather whatever little courage he had left-- he walked back into the main area of the precinct.

Hank was sitting at his desk --thank god for small miracles-- busy with paperwork. Gavin’s hands were sweating as he went to him, his stomach twisting in anxiousness.

It was Connor, in the desk across from Hank, that saw Gavin first. The android took one look at him, smiled, and must have kicked Hank under the desk or something because Hank startled and looked at Connor for a second before he noticed Gavin.

“Gavin!” Hank made a sudden aborted movement, and side eyed Connor, like it had been the android’s duty to tell him Gavin was there but hadn’t. “How are you feeling?”

Gavin dropped his eyes, strongly resisting the urge to fidget under Hank’s blue eyes. The St Christopher’s necklace around his neck felt unusually heavy, as if it would choke him, and Gavin ached with the need to feel the silver of the medal in his hand.

“The shoulder doesn’t hurt too much,” Gavin shrugged, which actually managed to jostle his wound and sent a bolt of pain down his spine. Gavin ignored it. “Huh, do you have a minute?”

Hank hesitated.

“It’s almost lunch time,” Connor offered softly, and because Gavin was looking everywhere except at Hank, he didn’t see the man nod in acknowledgment.

It was surreal to walk out of the precinct followed by Hank, because the day was beautiful outside: sunny and warm, a fresh wind making it so the sun wasn’t overbearing. It felt natural too, because even if they hadn’t talked in over three years, they had done this for way more, before, and Gavin’s feet remembered the way-- first right, and then left, and soon they were in a small park they used to have lunch at, when things were good between them.

Gavin stopped under the shade of a big oak tree, looking at the old bench that apparently hadn’t gotten much maintenance either for the past three years. It had been green once, and now the paint was pretty much all gone, the black of the metal showing underneath.

Something about it hurt, and Gavin didn’t sit down as he used to.

Hank didn’t either.

They stood there in silence for a while, avoiding each other’s eyes. Gavin’s heart was racing, and he struggled with the words he wanted to say, just at the tip of his tongue but unable to be uttered.

However, it was Hank who beat him to it.

“I failed you,” Hank said, defeated and self-deprecating, and Gavin tightened his good hand into a fist, trying to control the sudden rage that the words evoqued in him. This was definitely not what he’d expected. “I failed you and for that I’m sorry.”

Gavin’s mouth flattened.

_Yes, you did_, he could have answered, _would_ have answered if they had had this conversation at any time but now. Yet, Gavin held his tongue because, despite his hurt, he had absolutely no wish to destroy Hank the way he knew he could, if only he aimed right.

“Shut up,” Gavin snapped, letting righteous fury take over his words instead of resentment. He had wanted to talk to Hank for a long time, but it had been too painful. And it was painful now too, because he looked at him, at his blue eyes, and couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d seen those same eyes on a little boy, holding Gavin’s hand as he went to sleep. God, Hank had lost Cole. And he dared to apologize to _Gavin_? “Shut up!” Gavin repeated, unable to contain his rage. “You were—how highly do you think of yourself that you think you could have, somehow— dealt with the loss of your kid and your marriage and also with the feelings of some stupid rookie that had a crush on you, jesus _fuck_!”

Hank blinked, surprise clear on his face because he had probably never expected that Gavin would talk about his feelings clearly. Which, to be honest, was fair because Gavin hadn’t expected the words to come out either.

“I just wanted…” Gavin continued, suddenly subdued. What followed was a hard thing to say, and it was pure determination that allowed Gavin to confess, “I wanted it to be me.”

There was a heavy silence following the confession, a stunned, heavy silence that made Gavin’s admission sound much more bigger. It was something that had been long coming, something that had hung between them for a long time, ignored and neglected.

The truth has that Gavin had always been scared of those feelings. Scared because he _knew_ they were unrequited, but, instead of moving on when it became obvious Hank would never be interested in him that way --for several reasons--, instead of letting them go, Gavin had clung to them.

Like a stagnant pool of water, Gavin had kept them inside until they festered.

“It’s dumb, but I wanted…I wanted you to turn to me. I wanted to be the one to listen to you, to hold you when you were sad, to… “ he swallowed, thinking of Connor, unable to finish his sentence. _To be worthy of your love_. “That was my selfish wish. But I understand. You don’t have to apologize. Sometimes life is shitty and it’s no one’s fault. I get that, okay?”

Silence.

And then, “It doesn’t mean it hurt any less,” Hank said, voice very gentle, and Gavin averted his face, unable to show Hank the way it twisted.

“Yeah,” he acknowledged. It was a hard thing to accept, but Gavin did it because there was somewhere else he needed to go, a place he wanted to reach, and so he couldn’t remain shackled to his past forever.

The silence that followed was long, broken only by the quiet rustle of leaves shaken by the wind. Eyes closed, Gavin struggled with himself, fought the anger and the resentment, digging deep inside himself into the pool of sunlight that were part of his happiest memories: a golden haired boy squealing as Gavin aimed a garden hose at him, Hank’s laughter, Joanna coming outside with a smile on her face, holding a tray with snacks.

It hurt. It was funny how he had always focused on the bad, and perhaps the reason that he hadn’t tried to remember the good was that the loss, the knowledge that they would never be able to return to those golden, perfect days, hurt way more than the bad times.

When he finally felt himself able to speak and raised his eyes, Gavin found Hank already looking at him. His eyes were shiny, and the expression in his face meant that he must know what Gavin had been thinking about.

This was a pain they both shared, in different ways.

“Are you happier now?” Gavin whispered, desperately needing to know the answer.

Hank chuckle sounded closer to a sob. He screwed his eyes shut for a second, and his smile was as sad as it was happy, and Gavin found that it was something he completely understood as well.

“Yes,” Hank answered at last, expression soft, and Gavin knew he must be thinking about Connor.

It wasn’t bitter. Thinking about Hank and Connor together didn’t sting as it once had. It didn’t drive him mad with jealousy anymore, resenting the android for touching a place of Hank’s heart he had long coveted and been denied.

He was glad. Glad that, after everything, Hank had managed to be happy again.

“Good,” he said, simply.

“And you?” Hank asked. “Are you happier?”

Gavin froze in surprise. It was doing Hank a disservice, perhaps, but he had spent three years trying to convince himself that Hank had never cared about him, and as unfair as it was, it was also not something that would magically disappear.

But when he got over his initial surprise, the answer was easy. He thought of Nines’ kind eyes, his gentle voice, the way he always touched Gavin like he was precious, how he had freely admitted to his own mistakes. He thought about Tina’s loyal support, of her happy face every time Gavin cooked for her. He remembered the alley cats, and the young dark haired boy that cared for them-- though of Polly, and Sarah’s thanks, and Fowler’s quiet praise-- and smiled.

“Yeah,” he admitted, because he was. He wasn’t fine by any means, not yet, and he didn’t know that he would ever be able to completely heal, but he was trying to move forward, he _needed_ to move forward by whatever means possible.

Which meant…

Licking his lips, Gavin pulled the chain that he always wore around his neck and passed it over his head.

On his hand, the necklace looked small and innocent, a simple object and not something that held great value.

Hank had given this to Gavin, a long time ago, when Gavin had been lost, so he could find his way home.

He didn’t need it anymore.

It had been a very long journey, but...he was home.

Perhaps he had been home for a long time.

“Here,” he said, getting closer to Hank to place the medal on the man’s stretched hand. It was a difficult thing to do, to hand over the necklace, because letting go was always hard. But Gavin needed this thing with Hank --that had been going on mostly in his head-- to finally be over. “Thank you,” he continued, the ghost of a crooked smile on his face because he was damned if he was finishing this like it was a funeral. “This has been my lucky charm for many years. But I think it’s time I let it go.”

Hank noded, eyes clouded as he closed his hand around the silver necklace.

Gavin turned to go, but he hadn’t walked very far before Hank’s voice stopped him.

“Gavin!” Hank called, and Gavin’s courage was barely enough to help him to look back at him. “Thank you,” Hank said, voice choked. “For your feelings.”

Gavin swallowed, turned around, and left.

He didn’t go back to the precinct. Instead, he barely made it inside an automated taxi before tears were falling down his cheeks.

In the back of the taxi, Gavin cried, his tears unrestrained and inevitable. For the first time, he allowed himself to cry out his pain, to openly mourn the loss of people he had loved --god, he missed Cole so much-- to shed tears because he had felt lonely and abandoned. But he smiled, too, because he loved Hank, and had loved those golden days they spent together, and perhaps now they didn’t have to continue pretending that nothing had happened, that they didn’t have a past that they had shared.

It was over.

I was over, and like the necklace had indeed been a heavy burden around his neck he felt raw, but also he felt lighter.

Perhaps now he could move on.

To the future.

* * *

After Nines gave his notice to the DPD, it took him another week to gather the courage to go to the library.

At first, he hadn’t been able to figure out why, which was one of the reasons he had kept away.

The almost two weeks since Gavin had closed the door on him had been difficult, not the least because Nines had had a lot of time to think. It still broke his heart to remember Gavin’s heart felt sobs at the other side of the door, the awful distress of not being able to help someone he loved.

However, he was glad Gavin was doing better. They texted sometimes, small nonsensical things, and although Nines missed him and longed to be at Gavin’s side, he had a feeling this separation was for the best. It was not only Gavin that had needed the space. Nines had needed it too, although he hadn’t been aware at the time, and the light conversation and the cat pictures were a sweet and non stressful way of reassuring each other that things would be alright.

When they texted, Gavin always ended their conversations with a little heart, and whenever he saw it, Nines knew things would be okay.

So he took the time apart to focus only on himself, and it was strange, but it felt good to do so. He had not needed a lot of time to decide to leave the DPD, and when he’d talked to captain Fowler, he’d found surprisingly little resistance.

“Yes, I had the feeling you wouldn’t last long,” the captain had said. “You don’t have the temper for it.”

Nines had not taken offence. It was the truth, and he was happy when the captain had allowed him to work on the administrative side of things for his remaining time in the force, which still involved more gruesome details that he ever wanted to know but at least spared him from going to crime scenes.

So, because he was a state-of-the-art android, the administrative work had left him plenty of time to think. And he had. He had taken a deep, long look at himself and had thought about his wants and needs.

It hadn’t always been an easy process, and more often than not it had hurt, but he hadn’t been alone. Margaret’s experience had been invaluable in helping him figure himself out, and Connor and Rin had always been there, ready to listen to him.

Nines had once again taken up his long walks, and when he was reflecting on a particularly challenging issue or aspect of himself, he went out and walked it out.

Like that, little by little, that awful weight that had settled on his shoulders since he started to work on the DPD, vanished. Little by little he felt himself again, and some things, some understandings that don’t easily come while a person is inexperienced, like Nines’ mind was a garden, finally bloomed.

And yet, when Laura had contacted him to invite him over for a cup of tea, Nines had been hesitant. Not only to meet at the library --a place he had avoided going alone since Emma had given him a piece of her mind in New Year’s-- but about the possibility of having to talk to Laura about it. The more time that passed, the more ashamed Nines felt about how he had handled the library thing.

He had never apologized to Laura, and she had never brought it up even though Nines knew it must have caused her trouble at the time.

This was why it took him two weeks to sort out his thoughts enough to feel in the right mind to accept Laura’s invitation.

It was an early Saturday morning when Nines found himself once more in front of the library. Because it was still early, everything was quiet, and Nines couldn’t help but remember that faraway first morning when he had chased #9 to this place, a little more than a year ago.

More than a year. It felt like a lifetime, and for Nines it was, and so he allowed himself the sentimentality of the memories, of soaking up the sight of the building again, for it seemed like the only thing that hadn’t changed.

The sound of Nines’ shoes against the concrete was the only noise in the quiet morning. As he had done that time, he didn’t go to the front door, walking towards the garden instead. And then, when he stepped in, he stopped, breathless.

As if the spring itself had made its home in the small library garden, everything around Nines was an explosion of color. The last time Nines had seen the garden it had been frozen, asleep, barely shrubs, branches and bulbs that lay dormant under the frozen earth. They were all in bloom now, every single one of them, painting every nook and cranny of the courtyard in yellow and blue and white, purple and red, bright and alive, beautiful flowers swaying under the light breeze of the morning.

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Laura said, and Nines had been so taken by the sight that he hadn’t noticed his system’s warning of her approaching. The woman was wearing a black turtleneck and beige pants, and, for once, her long dark hair was loose down her back. It made the silver on her temples more evident, but it suited her. Like this, she looked more alive as well, like spring had come to her too. She had a green watering can in one hand. “It took a little longer to bloom than we expected, but look at it now.”

Nines noded, allowing himself to relish the beauty of the flowers.

“Rin worked very hard taking care of it,” Nines commented, and Laura smiled.

“We all took care of this garden. Even you.” Nines looked at her, and her expression was soft, warm in a way he had seldom seen her. “Would you help me today too? To water it? Even flowers need some help to bloom after all.”

Speechless, Nines accepted the watering can she was offering, and for the next thirty minutes they worked in the garden, weeding and watering, the work pleasant in the early morning.

They washed their dirt-stained hands under the garden faucet, and then Nines helped Laura to open the library, a routine that was familiar even if it was something he had not done for more than eight months, even though it wasn’t officially supposed to open for a couple of hours still.

“Tea?” Laura asked, guiding Nines into her office. Nines accepted, and while Laura put the electric kettle on, Nines let the much missed silence of the library envelop him, sweet and gentle. The sounds, the smell, it all rang achingly familiar, and yes, Nines loved this place with an intensity that startled him-- and how had he tried to pretend he didn’t need this?

Nines busied himself with his mug of tea while Laura made some instant coffee for herself --Rin would have a heart attack if she ever found out the amount of sugar the woman dumped on it-- and, once she was comfortably seated, and although it was impossible that Rin had not shared with her at least some of what Nines was going through, she asked, “So, how are you?”

Nines told her.

He tried to make it brief, but even so it took a while to tell: the case gone wrong, the hospital, Nines’ own mistakes and realizations.

“I read a book once,” he said, the nature of his relationship with Laura and her own love for books prompting the thought, “about a cursed house. It was…it looked like a normal place, but the characters, when they were inside, behaved like monsters.” Nines looked down at his hands clutching the warm mug of thirium. “That’s how I feel when I’m at the DPD.”

“That’s awful,” Laura injected. She’d been mostly silent through Nines’ story, but now she was frowning, and Nines felt that, out of all the people in the world, she who loved the library so dearly might understand him best.

“I quit,” Nines confessed. “I have a few days left, but then I’m done. It’s a relief,” and it was. Bigger than Nines would have imagined. “I know how I might come across, leaving jobs like it’s nothing, but...I was wrong. I have no other plan right now, but I’ll never go back to police work again. It was a mistake to think I could do it in the first place.”

“I see,” Laura answered, thoughtful, and because Nines wasn’t quite ready to pursue that line of thought, he asked:

“How about you?”

It was a delight to hear Laura talk about Rin. Her whole face lit up, and she seemed as proud of Rin’s achievements as if they were her own. It had been a mistake too, Nines realized, not keeping in touch with Laura. She was the only other person he could talk about Rin after all.

And yet…

Laura was so happy talking about Rin, and the love she felt for her was so obvious that Nines couldn’t help but remember the airport. Laura had smiled then too, she’d been happy for Rin, and while intellectually Nines understood the reason, he still struggled with the emotional part of it.

Letting go, he had discovered recently, was not something he was very good at.

Laura must have noticed, because she stopped mid sentence and looked at Nines with calculating eyes for a second before she asked, “What is it?”

Had Nines been human, he would have physically flinched.

“Excuse me?”

“There’s something you want to ask,” Laura pointed out, waving at his LED. “Your LED gets all jumpy when you have something to say.”

Nines noded, torn between embarrassment and the strange sort of joy that never seemed to diminish every time one of his friends showed they knew him enough to be able to read him accurately, despite his empty face.

“It might be a rude thing to ask,” Nines warned.

Laura waved him off.

“There’s very little you can ask that will offend me.”

“When we said goodbye to Rin, at the airport,” Nines started, trying to order his thoughts. “How could you be okay with it?”

“Oh, Nines,” Laura said, kindly. “You wanted to ask this back then too, didn’t you?” Mutely, Nines noded. “It’s because I love her,” she smiled, and she said it like it made all the sense in the world, which it probably did to her. But Nines didn’t quite get it, and was saved from having to ask for clarification when Laura elaborated. “There are a lot of things that are difficult to negotiate in a relationship, and I have my own insecurities of course, but despite it all, she loves me. She has chosen to love me. And more than anything, I love her. If this will make her happy, there is nothing I wouldn’t do to support her.”

Her expression became gentle as she watched Nines, and after a couple of heartbeats she leaned across the desk to brush a touch against Nines’ chin, to make him look up.

“Hey. The future is uncertain. No one, android or human, really knows what it’s going to happen in the future. It may be that this change will drive us apart, but it may also pull us together. But that, too, may happen if we stay as we are, because for us, who are alive, there is no such thing as the unchanging.” Nines frowned, upset, because that, right there, was the exact thing he had most trouble accepting. “Everything changes all the time, but even if we one day drifted apart, even if one day, for some reason, our love transformed into something that didn’t allow us to stay together...even then, I would never keep her caged. I just want her to be herself, and to be happy and live freely. Hopefully I will be part of that, but if not? I regret nothing.”

“Because you love her.”

Laura nodded. “Do you think the person you love would begrudge you that?”

Nines’ LED blinked in a flinch. “No! No. Rather, I think it’s me who wanted to cage him,” he admitted shamefully. “I wanted things to always remain unchanging, and that led me...I wasn’t honest, neither with him nor myself. I wanted...towards him, I wanted to give only kindness, so why…?”

_Why did I only cause hurt?_

“Have you apologized?” Laura asked, her down-to-earth tone spiraling Nines out of his spiral of self-hatred.

“I...more or less. Not properly.”

“Well then, when you finally get to talk, apologize, and then you open your mouth and talk honestly. That detective of yours seems like he’s pretty stubborn, so I’m sure you’ll both eventually find a way to understand each other.”

For a few seconds, Nines and Laura stared at each other, the woman with a smile, and he android with his LED shining pure blue on his temple.

“Nines, it’s okay to make mistakes as a couple too,” Laura said in the end, softly. “I’ll dare say you’ll make many more. It’s impossible to live with another person and never hurt them. But as long as you’re both on the same page, as long as you’re a team and keep finding ways to communicate and understand each other, then things will work out.”

Nines stared some more, completely disarmed by Laura’s words. By the way they dripped honeyed comfort and soothed a fear he hadn’t known how to address.

“Thank you,” he whispered, voice very little.

Laura noded lightly, smiling for a frail moment of pure and unadulterated gentle kindness before her eyes went wide as she remembered something.

“Ah, before I forget! I don’t know if Rin told you that Peter is getting married?”

“Yes,” Nines answered, confused by the sudden change of topic. “He’s moving to Mexico with his spouse next month.”

“That means we have an open position at the library,” Laura said, and Nines’ mind went staticy for a moment, unable to believe what he was hearing. “We hired an android after you left, you know, for the Integration Program. This vacancy has no such constraints, so we will go through interviews and stuff-- the normal hiring process. However, you already have training and library experience, so your CV should do well.”

“I…”

“You would have to deal with Emma,” Laura continued, “and I know you guys didn’t part in good terms, but well. She’s not a bad person, and the chance is there, if you want it.”

The sound of voices outside Laura’s door distracted them then. Voices Nines knew -- Peter’s low, polite one, and Emma’s bright, energetic laughter.

Startled, Laura looked at the clock, and seemed surprised by the time.

“I’m so late,” she mumbled, finishing the last of her cold coffee and standing from the desk in one single motion.

Nines watched her as she looked for some papers on her desk, mumbling to herself as if she had forgotten Nines was there. However, when she found what she’d been looking for, she turned towards the android once more.

“Nines? I cannot promise anything, and this has nothing to do with Rin, but… you’d be welcome here, you know,” she said. “There is no such thing as a late or early start. You understand that, don’t you?”

Emotion rose within Nines, golden and warm and liquid. He felt it spill over, too big to be contained inside his chest any longer.

Why…?

He had done nothing but run all this time. He inconvenienced everyone with selfish decisions.

He understood now, how Laura and Emma must have had to step up to cover for the work Nines had suddenly left them with. And yet she was giving him another chance... why was Laura so kind to him? Why was living such a hard thing, but so sweet also?

A hand on his head snapped him out of thoughts. Laura’s hand was gentle as she ruffled his hair before petting him as one would a child.

“You’re a good kid,” she told him. “I will be waiting for you to come back, okay?”

Nines noded.

On his temple, his LED was pure blue, bright like a star.

* * *

When Gavin woke up on Sunday morning, it was not dawn yet.

As it had happened of late, even though he’d woken at a weird hour, he didn’t feel tired or anxious. A tad sleepy, yes, but overall he felt...good. Rested.

It was still a novel sensation, not having to struggle with sleep, and Gavin would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying every single second of it.

He grabbed his phone from the night stand and paddled out of his room.

The living room was grey when Gavin entered, bare feet silent on the carpet. The apartment felt bigger now that Tina had gone back home again, but Gavin felt proud of that too. Even with his arm still in a cast, he had done well enough that Tina felt reassured to leave him by himself again.

And he did feel better. Lighter, perhaps. It was a strange thing to describe. Oscar had made him aware that he would most likely have downs eventually, but at the moment Gavin was not going to worry about that. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

One day at a time.

From her cat shelves near the ceiling, Fliss stared at him, tail swishing lazily. She looked too comfortable to move just yet, as having Gavin constantly in the apartment had lost its novelty about four days in.

Gavin chuckled, amused by her antics, and looked down at his phone.

As usual, his mind flew where his heart was.

Nines.

In the past few days, Gavin had been gathering the courage to call Nines. He longed to hear his voice, missed him keenly, wanted to...well, to talk to him. And that morning, perhaps because of the early hour, or simply because Gavin was finally ready, he felt that he didn’t need any courage.

Heart beating in excitement, he called.

“Gavin?” Nines answered, immediately because he was himself, and the onslaught of emotion his voice brought upon Gavin almost made him tear up.

“Hey there, tin man,” Gavin managed to answer, voice a bit wobbly. “How are you doing?”

“Gavin,” Nines repeated, like he couldn’t believe it, and Gavin was taken by the strong desire to hold him and never let him go.

“Where are you?” Gavin asked, reflexively going towards the fire escape window to look down towards the cat alley.

A shiver ran down his spine when he met the blue eyes of a person standing in the alley. Gavin scrambled to open the window, clumsily and in a hurry, and climbed out and into the fire escape with less grace than usual.

“I was...I was feeding the cats,” Nines mumbled, looking at Gavin, and Gavin heard him on his phone and lower, voice floating upwards in the silence of the morning.

“And I was thinking about you,” Gavin answered, defiant, like Nines would ever take offense at that.

“Me too,” Nines confessed, his voice thick with emotion.

Gavin decided in a second.

“Stay there,” he ordered, and hung up.

He was still in his pajamas as he dashed downstairs, heart in his throat. The morning was cold for late June, but it felt nice on Gavin’s face as he pushed open the glass door of the building with his good shoulder.

Nines, of course, had not obeyed. He was already waiting for him when Gavin opened the door, and for a moment Gavin stopped, just taking him in.

It was Nines. Nines as usual, with his blue knitted jumper, bright eyes and stoic face. He was carrying a white plastic bag on his right hand, full with cat food and some colorful toys, and somehow, in the grey light before dawn of the early morning, he was the realest thing Gavin had ever seen in his life.

God, he was so dear. This person that had waited for him, that had seen him and his worst and hadn’t averted his eyes.

He was so dear.

“Gavin…” Nines whispered, and Gavin was moving forward without conscious thought.

Nines arms received him without hesitation, wrapping around him both firmly and gently. Gavin held onto him, reveled in his warmth, in the reality of his body, and sighed, allowing himself to bury his face in Nines shoulder, face bursting into flames when Nines pressed a gentle kiss to his temple.

“I missed you,” Nines said into his hair, and Gavin noded, too overwhelmed to talk just yet.

They embraced in silence for a while, just enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence, until Gavin startled, suddenly remembering something.

“What is it?” Nines asked, and Gavin’s answer was only to look up at the sky, towards the east, where the sky was already beginning to change colors.

“Come with me,” Gavin answered, stepping back but lacing the fingers of his good hand with Nines’. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Holding hands, Gavin led Nines inside the building and up the stairs. The rooftop was as silent as the last time Gavin had been there, and he was grateful for the fact that they were alone, and that they were just in time.

“This is what I wanted to show you,” Gavin said, pointing towards the east, face red because he was suddenly aware about how dumb his idea had been.

But Nines didn’t mock him. He just looked towards where Gavin pointed without question, and maybe Gavin’s idea hadn’t been so dumb after all because after a few moments the sun rose from the horizon, a pale finger of gold painting the sky gold and blue.

Hand in hand, they watched the sun rise, the city slowly waking up under the warmth of its light.

“Thank you for showing me this,” Nines said at last, and Gavin noded, a bit embarrassed. “And...sorry about what I did.”

“What you did?” Gavin repeated, honestly curious. To be honest, he was nervous about the conversation that was about to happen, but the way Nines held his hand was reassuring, and made Gavin think things would be alright after all.

“I didn’t tell you about leaving the DPD,” Nines shrugged. On him, the gesture was more like a tick, a mechanical thing, and Gavin was aware he was gone because he found it terribly endearing. “There are a lot of things I did that hurt you, although I didn’t mean to.”

“No, I kinda get it. I also did a lot of shit without telling you.”

Nines nodded his acceptance. “Why did you do it?”

Gavin shifted his weight, nervous. Out of habit, his hand went to his neck, only to find bare skin where a chain had rested for a long time.

“Why don’t you go first?” he asked to stall, because as much as he wanted to answer, it was difficult, and he needed the time.

“I was afraid of change,” Nines answered without hesitation, and Gavin had the impression this was something Nines had reflected a lot on during the time they’d been apart. “I found someone that made me happy, and I tried to keep the relationship from changing. I think I was afraid…I thought that if we were not always together then we would grow apart. I didn’t realize at the time that being dishonest about that would end up hurting both of us.”

Gavin noded, because yeah. He had been working in therapy through that as well. On getting rid of the urge to justify everything Nines did, even the bad.

“I was afraid to become a burden. I don’t want to be carried,” Gavin said at last. “There’s shit ton more than that, but in the end, that’s it.”

Nines frowned. “You are not. I _want_ to take care of you.”

“I know. I _know_ that,” Gavin huffed, frustrated. “But...I am afraid I don’t know where the line lies between _healthy_ and _too much_. And because I don’t know, I live terrified of being too much for...well, for you.” Gavin swallowed. “I mean, you have seen how fucked up I am. You should not have to deal with that. Even if I need support, it doesn’t mean you should have to _carry_ me.

“You…the way you would do anything for me scares me,” Gavin continued. “What if it’s too much? What if I’m too much? What if you can’t handle it? What if my hurt hurts you? I couldn’t bear it…” He tightened his hold on Nines’ hand, relieved when the android squeezed back in reassurance. “I guess the bottom line is…I don’t want you to heal me, or for you to take my problems away. I just want to be together. I want you to stay by my side. That’s all.”

Gavin stared intently at Nines, and thus he saw the rainbow in the android’s LED as he processed all this, watched the way Nines’ eyes widened a little before both his LED and his expression settled back down into calm acceptance.

It took Nines a while to find his words, but Gavin waited, patiently. The morning sun was warm around them, the morning young and cold enough for it to be pleasant.

“I don’t want perfection,” Nines said at long last, when he was ready. “I don’t want someone that’s never hurt, or angry, or sad. I want you as a person. I won’t be disappointed when you’re angry, or scared, I won’t be let down when you are sad.” Nines eyelashes fluttered then, like he had to gather some courage before continuing. “Gavin, I’m very selfish,” he confessed, eyes bright. “Lately I have found I want too much. I want all of those parts of you too. I want the good, and the bad, and everything in between…to talk, and laugh, and worry together. And that way, I want to live…”

_With you. _

“I guess, then…” Gavin chuckled, eyes full of tears. ”It looks like all this time we have wanted the same thing, haven’t we?”

Nines smiled. With his eyes, with his LED, with his whole being, he smiled. He closed the distance between them, cupped Gavin’s face with his free hand, and Gavin melted into the touch, overcome by the humble awe he felt at Nines’ wholehearted acceptance, overwhelmed by the gentleness of his love.

“I—I have feelings for you.” Gavin mumbled, closing his eyes, and then swallowed before trying again. When he could look at Nines once more, his face was set in pure and unadulterated determination, eyes like embers, and his voice came out strong and steady when he said, “I’m in love with you.”

The words resonated between them loud and clear in the cold silence of the morning.

“I want…I want us to be together. I want this relationship to be of equals. I don’t want to hide, and I don’t want you to hide. I want...”

“To live,” Nines completed for him, and Gavin wasn’t aware he was crying until Nines’s thumb wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Together.”

“Yes,” Gavin whispered.

“I love you,” Nines answered, and leaned down for a kiss. Gavin desperately wished he had his other arm so he could wrap it around Nines’ neck, because he sure as hell wasn’t letting go of his hand. “I love you,” Nines mumbled again when they broke the kiss so Gavin could breathe. “I love you.”

“Yes,” Gavin whispered, accepting every kiss and every word of love, letting it all wash over him, surround him, protect him, settling around his neck like a good luck charm.

They kissed under the sun for a long time, whispering words of love, and right then, for a perfect moment, between them there was only light.


	12. Beyond All Towers

After that, Nines and Gavin took it slow.

However, this time it was not the abstract slow of trying to guess what the other person wanted or needed and saying nothing. This time, when they went down to Gavin’s apartment --still unable to let go of each other’s hands for long-- they actually sat down and talked until Gavin’s stomach growled loud enough to remind them both that the man hadn’t had breakfast.

They cooked together --or rather, Nines cooked, Gavin directed, and Fliss supervised-- and Nines was miffed that, even carefully following a recipe, the omelette he attempted was still raw on the inside.

“That’s because stoves and ovens are not exactly known for their precision. They are seldom set at the same temperature, that’s why you must never trust a recipe,” Gavin explained, and proceeded to demolish every single bite of the omelette with enough enthusiasm that Nines stopped feeling bad about his perceived failure.

“I see. I’ll use your method next time,” he teased, because Gavin’s method was eyeballing everything and it drove Nines insane.

“Damn right.”

They spent the rest of that day on the couch, cuddling and talking. It was then that Gavin found out about Nines’ panic when he had gone undercover, how his fear had woven itself into the realization of his feelings and heavily influenced his choice to leave the library in favor of the DPD. It was then too that Gavin told Nines about that awful little voice in his head, how it had whispered awful things on Nines’ birthday.

They talked about good things too. About the first time they had realized they loved each other, about the future, and about all of that sweet nonsense that people in love cannot help but want to say and listen to over and over. And, among the words of love and reassurance, they kissed. It was strangely tentative, soft, as if this was the first time and not one of many.

That first day, they kissed for as long as they talked. It was slow, unhurried, out of worship and reassurance more than desire, and Nines was pleased that Gavin’s kisses had lost their urgent edge in favor of a quiet adoration that made the android want to melt into a puddle in the man’s arms.

At nine o’clock sharp the android excused himself, and even though disentangling himself from Gavin was one of the most difficult things he had done, it occurred to him that it was a good idea to give each other some space until they had time to figure out things better.

“Unless you’d rather I stay?” Nines asked after he communicated this to Gavin.

Gavin, who had listened to Nines in silence with a smile on his face, shook his head slightly. “I think you got the right idea,” he agreed. “I mean...I do want you to stay, but at the same time I think I need...space? To process all this. And...” he trailed off, averting his eyes, suddenly embarrassed.

“Yes?” Nines prompted, wanting to drown the man in kisses. Shy Gavin was something he was experiencing for the first time, and, as touched as Nines was about what this meant about Gavin’s desire to express vulnerability, it was also absolutely adorable.

“It’ll make it better when I see you again. Tomorrow?” he asked, words tentative, and Nines couldn’t help but cup his face and kiss him sweetly again.

“Tomorrow,” he promised, and Gavin’s smile was worth everything in the world.

* * *

Gavin went back to work during the last week of June, but Nines did not return with him.

Instead, he spent his days quietly once more, dividing his time between the people he loved, the cats and his books. After some advice from Rin --who had been delighted when she found out about Laura’s offer-- Nines sent a very well put together, if a tad old fashioned, resumé. He hoped it would go well, but, because he was himself, looked for other positions at other places, things he could perhaps do and be happy.

In the meantime, he didn’t worry too much about it. That year the summer was bright and hot, and he spent a lot of time outside playing with Oliver and Cecil.

Cecil had been spending a lot of time at Oliver’s that summer. The boy had begged his mother to let him keep one of the cats, and although Amelia had thought it was a good idea, she wanted to make sure the cat would fit Cecil’s personality before commiting.

She needn’t have worried. #5, Sami’s orange-and-white sister, turned out to be a playful, confident cat, who couldn’t get enough of chasing the toys Cecil waved around for her.

“A good match, I’d say,” Margaret declared one day. They had been watching the children playing with the cats through the open window, and #5 kept chasing Cecil long after Oliver and Sami had retired to the shade to watch, too tired or lazy to keep up.

“I would have thought a less energetic cat would be best,” Amelia frowned, hesitant. “Cecil has never been one to play outside much.”

“Why?” Nines asked, curious, and served more lemonade to Margaret although he was not having anything himself.

“No reason, really,” Amelia shrugged after thinking it over. “Maybe it was just me being overprotective.”

She tensed as, outside, Cecil stumbled and fell on his knees to the grass. However, before anyone could react, #5, who had been chasing Cecil, rubbed against him, tail high. Cecil giggled, petting the cat gently as he had been taught, and Amelia relaxed.

“Ah, well,” she sighed, watching Cecil pet the cat. “I think the choice has been made for us anyway.”

She was proved right an hour or so later when she went to check on the children, who had migrated to play in Oliver’s room, only to find Cecil fast asleep on Oliver’s bed, #5 curled on top of his chest, purring.

“Sami doesn’t do that,” Oliver whispered. He’d been quietly reading a book in deference to his sleeping friend, and Amelia felt a wave of affection at the boy’s thoughtfulness. “He likes to sleep at my feet best,” he pointed, towards where Sami was, indeed, curled against his legs. “Cecil named her Scout.”

“Looks like Cecil got himself a living weighted blanket,” Amelia chuckled, guiding Oliver into the bed beside Cecil when the boy yawned. “Scout,” she smiled, and the cat opened her amber eyes to look at her and blinked, slowly.

Scout went home one warm Sunday morning, an event even Gavin was there for. He had insisted to do all the shopping for the cat, and so he and Nines had spent a couple of hours piling up a shopping cart with everything a cat could possibly need (they’d also bought things for #4, #7 and #8 -- Minerva, Timmy and Tammy respectively-- because Gavin, apparently, loved spending his money in dumb cat things).

Amelia, after initially refusing to accept Gavin’s help, had ended up accepting after thinking it over.

“Like sending a child away, huh?” she smiled, waiting patiently for Gavin to load everything in the trunk of her car.

Gavin had ignored her, but Nine had known it was true.

“Don’t worry, detective,” Cecil said, patting Gavin’s hand consolingly. “I will always take care of Scout, and you can come visit her whenever you like.”

This was the first time Cecil had directly talked to Gavin, and Nines knew that Gavin understood the significance because the man stilled, gentled his expression as he asked, “Is that a promise?”

Cecil nodded enthusiastically.

Gavin smiled. “Well then, I guess I can entrust you with her.”

Nines and Gavin watched the cat go together, half hugging, Nines’ arm around Gavin’s waist. Afterwards, they went about their day as usual, but that evening, when they fed the cats, the alley had one cat less.

* * *

“How are you doing?” Gavin asked, later on.

Distracted, Nines looked up from his book.

They didn’t always spend their evenings together. During weekdays, Gavin sometimes had to work late, and he had started to occasionally go out for drinks with people from the DPD --Sarah, sometimes-- and make dinner at Tina’s on Tuesdays.

However, they did reserve their weekends for each other. Nines usually stayed over Saturday night, happy to hold Gavin while he slept or cuddle with Fliss and #9 on the couch while he read.

Together, both him and Gavin had been discovering how to best navigate their own individual, more negative feelings in a way that didn’t harm the other. Nines, much to his surprise, had discovered that he prefered to be alone to process things, the strain of another person’s company making it impossible to concentrate on his own feelings.

Gavin, on the other hand, while he seldom talked while upset, would definitely spiral if left alone. On his bad days, he liked to curl against Nines, all wound up and tense, and read _The Return of the King_, his eyes going again and again over the same page as he struggled with things he didn’t always share.

“I think I’m fine,” Nines answered, touched by how ready Gavin looked to leave him be if Nines needed it. It had taken them a couple of tries talking it out before they got it right without either of them getting offended or hurt, but it came more naturally each day. Learning to live together, that was. “I’m happy for her,” he added, voice a little wobbly, because as happy as he was that Scout had gone to a loving home, he couldn’t help but feel a little lonely at her absence.

Letting go, after all, might never be an easy thing for him.

Nines put down his book, and at that, like it had been a signal, Gavin sat beside him, so close that he was almost on Nines’ lap, nuzzling his cheek. This was another change that Nines never wanted to get used to, he loved it so much.

Gavin had always been good to Nines, always thoughtful, but as of late he had become affectionate in a way that was...sweet. Apparently, when he felt safe, Gavin was (much to Nines’ delight) a very physical person. Whenever they were alone, he was always touching Nines -- hugging him, leaning against him, holding onto his arm or hand. Furthermore, the way he touched Nines, the little things he did for him, felt lighter, like he didn’t have anything to prove and his affection was for its own sake, not to make Nines happy.

Because he wanted to, and because he could, Nines pushed his book between two cushions to grant it as much protection as he could without having to move himself, and wrapped one arm around Gavin’s waist to pull the man sideways into his lap, mindful of his arm still in a cast.

“You can be sad too,” Nines informed him. “You took care of them all for a long time.”

Gavin chuckled a little. “I have been prepared for this for a while now,” he admitted. “It’s the best possible outcome for them, considering.”

Nines closed his eyes, humming his acknowledgement. He kissed Gavin’s neck, nipping at the place where Gavin’s beard ended. He knew that Gavin found amusing how utterly enamored Nines was with his beard. Nines didn’t know himself why exactly he loved it so much, except-- well, Gavin looked _good_. The look suited him, and Nines greatly enjoyed the scratchy texture of it whenever they kissed.

On more than one occasion Gavin had jokingly said he might keep it even when he had both hands to shave, and, in all honesty, Nines fervently wished he did.

He was pleased when Gavin tilted his head to give him more room, pulse quickening under Nines’ lips, and so he kept on kissing Gavin’s neck, slowly, until Gavin made a choked sound halfway to a moan.

Their kiss was deep, gentle even if Nines felt himself thrumming with a hot, electric energy he didn’t know what to do with. In the past few weeks they had made out a lot, but, as if by tacit agreement, they always stopped when things started to get too heated, always keeping their touches above the belt, Gavin’s cast getting in the way too often.

This time, too, Gavin made a sound of complaint at not being able to get close enough and he pulled away briefly, straddling Nines in a swift movement before reclaiming the android’s mouth, hot and demanding. In answer, Nines wove his fingers through Gavin’s hair, holding him in place with a firm grip, feeling fire wash over him at Gavin’s bitten moan and shiver.

He wanted Gavin.

It was a strange thing, to desire someone so keenly, but he did, so much that it overwhelmed his processors sometimes, made his skin recede to show his white chassis, all his systems preparing for a sync. It was a relief that Gavin wanted him as much, going by the way his body reacted so beautifully to Nines’ touch, and the android would have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t touched himself sometimes, when he was alone at night, thinking about all the ways they could continue, about all the ways he wanted to touch and be touched.

But not just yet.

When they broke the kiss, instead of going for another one, Nines hid his face on Gavin’s good shoulder, breath warm because he was overheating. Discreetly, he commanded his synt-skin to cover his hands again, not wanting Gavin to see.

This was why their tacit agreement to stop was a relief of a sort, because when Nines’ skin peeled away, he felt vulnerable, and he didn’t yet feel ready to show himself naked to Gavin.

“You okay?” Gavin asked, petting Nines’ head with one hand, and Nines let the worries melt away, relaxing under the tender touch.

“Yes,” he answered, honestly. And then, “You’re too much for me to handle sometimes, detective.”

“Oh my god,” Gavin choked, half laughing. Nines closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the smell of Gavin’s skin, the weight of his body, the sound of his laughter. It was a blissful thing, this sort of happiness, and Nines felt incredibly grateful to be alive, to be allowed to experience this with someone he loved. “I could say the same, sweetheart,” Gavin answered, voice warm, and kissed Nines’ forehead, just above the LED that was shining like a star in the sky.

“I love you,” Nines told him, serious and intense, not alarmed at all when Gavin flinched and dropped his eyes, not hurt at all when the man didn’t answer right away.

That evening, they worked around each other to make dinner.

They moved easier in the kitchen now, efficient now that they had picked on each other’s way of moving. The TV was on in the background, on a cooking show that Nines was half watching, and thus he was surprised when Gavin used the kitchen counter to balance himself as he stood on his toes and whispered in Nines’ ear, a secret only for him:

“I love you too.”

* * *

It was another two weeks until Gavin was free of his cast, and another two after that before Nines felt ready to ask what he wanted to know.

During that time, life was busy.

Gavin had a few particularly difficult cases, and therapy, to which he kept going once a week, sometimes left him moody. After the first few times this happened --and a heart wrenching crying session-- Gavin finally found something that worked for him that wasn’t reading the same page of _The Return of the King _over and over. It turned out that he baked to de-stress, and the only downside of this was that, as Nines didn’t need to eat, they always had a surplus of sweet bread and muffins.

This was what he more or less explained to Margaret the first time he arrived at her door with a loaf of orange bread, much to Oliver's delight.

“It’s really good! Oh please, send my compliments!” Margaret said after having a slice with her tea. “My, I might need to ask him for the recipe.”

Nines was dutiful in relying the message, and Gavin blinked, obviously surprised by the praise.

“The witch said that?” he blurted out before he could censor himself, and grimaced when he noticed what he’d said. “Sorry, I know she’s your friend. That woman and I fought for a long time over the cats, and I guess it hasn’t really registered that she’s okay now.”

“I understand,” Nines said, watching curiously as Gavin got thoughtful.

The next time Nines collected the extra marbled banana bread, there was a piece of paper with Gavin’s handwriting on top of it.

“Tell Mrs Parker the bananas I use are not overly ripe,” Gavin called from his bedroom. “She can do whatever she wants, but black bananas taste disgusting.”

After that, whenever Gavin baked, Nines noticed he took into consideration what Nines had reported that Oliver had liked-- and that was how the feud between Margaret and Gavin ended, over baking bread of all things.

Nines, however, had been busy too.

He had been through two rounds of interviews at the library, and it was with extreme joy that he had received the news that he had been hired.

“You better not pull the same thing twice,” Emma had warned him, seriously, a rebuke Nines had accepted as his due.

“I will not,” he answered, and he was determined to prove himself to her and earn back her trust if it was the last thing he did.

So, all in all, Nines was distracted enough by life that he didn’t remember his question until one afternoon when Gavin was kissing him on the couch.

To be fair, it had been Nines who started it.

A few weeks ago Gavin had found a couple of his old video game consoles, and had been teaching Nines how to play. They had discovered that Nines, who was probably the least competitive person on earth, went into full feral mode when it was about racing games-- much to Gavin’s amusement and delight.

That day, they had spent the afternoon playing, and although enjoyable, after a couple of hours Nines had decided he needed a break. Gavin had wanted one last race, so, because Nines had no issues with watching and he loved to hold Gavin at any given time, he’d had the brilliant idea of moving the cushions aside and sitting behind Gavin, hugging him while the man gleefully blue-shelled the crap out of the NPCs.

Nines had not meant to start anything. It had been just...Gavin had been sitting between his legs, completely in his arms, and Nines couldn’t help but kiss his neck, trailing his lips over Gavin’s warm skin down to his shoulder. Almost without noticing, his hands had found their way under the man’s shirt, petting his stomach, and Nines didn’t notice the effect he was having on Gavin until the man set the controller aside to lean back against him, seeking contact.

“Babe,” Gavin had said, voice breathy, and Nines had kissed him in answer, leaning back and taking Gavin with him until they were fully horizontal on the couch, Gavin on top of him.

Nines loved this. He enjoyed all and every contact he had with Gavin, of course, but this, having the man’s weight on him, ignited something within his systems that made him tremble with need.

They kissed for a while without any finesse, hands under clothes, and Nines felt the exact moment Gavin’s desire took over him because the man pulled away, panting, eyes dark.

“Mmm, Gavin,” Nines asked, nuzzling the man’s beard. “Is there a reason we should stop?”

For a second Gavin looked surprised, and it was with a great effort that Nines didn’t kiss him again. “I don’t want you to feel pressured,” he explained, like it was obvious, and Nines hadn’t thought he could love him any more that he did, but it was, indeed, possible.

“I do not,” he smiled, his LED pure blue between them. “I want to be intimate with you. It’s something I’ve wanted for a while. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Not uncomfortable. I just…” Gavin closed his eyes briefly, like he did when he thought about something that pained him. “I want to treat you right.”

Nines’ expression softened.

“You are,” he reassured Gavin, kissing the tip of his nose. He greatly disliked the way Gavin thought he’d never treat him well enough --never be good enough--, but he knew that it was something he was trying to overcome, so he let it go. “You do. But it’s okay if you want to wait, or if you’re not ready, or if you just don’t want to.”

Gavin’ quick self-assessment was obvious, and Nines waited. With Gavin’s weight still on him, he felt as if in a cocoon of safety, and he was glad he hadn’t brought this up before today because he didn’t think he’d ever felt as ready to have this conversation --in whichever way it went -- as he was right now.

“I want to,” Gavin said at last, and the way his eyes darkened as he looked down at Nines made something glitch in Nines’ HUB for a second. “I’d like…I’d like to make love to you,” he finished, voice trembling a little, because that’s what this was. Love.

Yet, Nines didn’t feel gentle. He didn’t expect the reaction he had to Gavin’s words either. Gavin made a little noise of surprise as Nines pulled him down for a kiss, deep and long, possessive. They seldom kissed like this, wild and uncontrolled, but Nines felt hungry for the small, involuntary sounds that were coming from Gavin, and drank them greedily.

Gavin’s hands were already under Nines’ clothes again when the android remembered a little detail that threw a wrench in his plans.

“Ah, Gavin,” Nines called, and loathed to interrupt what Gavin’s mouth was doing to his neck. “I know that this might be weird...but I didn’t think...I didn’t consider…”

“Consider...?” Gavin echoed, smirking a little because Nines was babbling.

It was the ease with which he stopped, the way he looked completely unbothered to pause and talk like it was was the most natural thing in the world, that made Nines’ sudden self-consciousness vanish into nothing.

“I have to go get my genital components,” he blurted out, cursing a little his lack foresight.

He had expected many reactions from Gavin. The ones he dreaded the most --although realistically he knew were the least probable-- were the ones where Gavin was weirded out, Nines’ android anatomy too alien to arouse desire. He’d been prepared for confusion, for alarm, for curiosity… not for Gavin’s whole face brightening up with amusement before he chuckled, hiding his face on Nines’ chest to muffle the sound.

Nines felt too safe and happy to feel either hurt or offended, although he had the notion that perhaps he should be.

“Sorry, sorry, I promise I’m not laughing at you,” Gavin gasped, and indeed, when he looked up, there wasn’t a trace of mocking in his expression, only warmth and acceptance. “It’s just you’re so…”

“So...?” Nines prompted, feeling a bit embarrassed but mostly genuinely curious.

“Lovely,” Gavin finished with a devilish grin, and god, that expression coupled with the beard made him look devastating. “Amazing,” he continued, covering Nines in praise and kisses until the android squirmed. “All right, so that sounds like shit I should know, so tell me.”

Nines did. It was a bit boring, and he knew which parts made him embarrassed because he got too technical, but Gavin listened to all the details and even asked a couple of questions.

By the time he finished explaining, Nines felt way better about the whole situation, probably because Gavin had listened to everything like it was natural, like having a conversation about how your partner’s private parts worked was _normal_.

Nines blinked. Perhaps it was?

“Well, it’s okay if you no longer feel in the mood, but...weren’t you going to go get them?” Gavin asked in the end, and oh, Nines very much felt in the mood, even after the awkward break.

However, he first kissed Gavin gently, lingering, and he asked his question as a whisper against Gavin’s lips.

“Will you wait for me?”

Gavin smiled, eyes soft, and caressed Nines’ cheek.

“As long as you need me to.”

* * *

Getting and attaching the genital components took Nines less time than actually explaining things to Gavin.

He was nervous on his way back to Gavin’s apartment, for more than one reason. First, there was the uncertainty as to the proceedings. Although of course he knew how sex worked, it just didn’t feel the same when it involved doing those things with Gavin. There was also his slight worry at Gavin’s reaction if --when-- Nines’ skin peeled back; he had never shown his chassis to anyone after all. But overall, the nervousness was of the good kind, mixed as it was with the eagerness of experiencing this with Gavin.

When he arrived to the man’s apartment, he noticed that the cats’ bowls had been filled with kibble --both #9 and Fliss were fast asleep on her bed under the window-- and although Gavin looked as nervous as Nines felt, everything else was normal.

Nines liked normal.

“Bedroom?” Gavin asked, holding out his hand without preamble.

It felt strange to be led like that, but Nines found he liked that too. Gavin’s hand was warm in his, and his pulse was quick, and Nines felt a honeyed arousal settle low in his belly only from that touch alone.

The bedroom was bright when they entered, the heavy drapes that usually covered the window pulled apart, their privacy protected only by a flimsy, semi transparent curtain that fluttered in the light current created by the open window.

The truth was that Nines had been in Gavin’s bedroom before, but never during daytime. It was emptier than the rest of the house, testament to its use. Gavin had dark wooden furniture that obviously came in a set: a dresser, two bedside tables and the headboard. The bed was neatly made --something Nines had never seen before-- the duvet on the bed a pretty forest green.

“We don’t have to do anything today,” Gavin offered, and only then did Nines notice he’d been staring at the bed. “We can, dunno, go watch a movie or something.”

“No,” Nines answered, and with more confidence than he felt, pulled Gavin into his arms and kissed him.

The kiss was different. They always built to it, starting with gentleness that often escalated. There was nothing to escalate in this kiss, hot and open and deep from the start, both their desire laid in the open for the other to take.

Nines went willingly when Gavin nudged him towards the bed.

“May I?” Gavin asked, gesturing at Nines clothes, and Nines nodded yes, beyond words.

They undressed each other slowly, caressing and kissing the skin that came into view. Nines let himself be guided once more, pleased when Gavin straddled him, looking at him with hungry eyes.

However, Nines couldn’t hold his gaze. He had wanted this for a long time, and he didn’t understand why he felt suddenly shy. As if sensing his mood, Gavin touched Nines’ chin, making him lift his face, thumb idly tracing Nines’ lips.

And it didn’t matter. Nervousness, and shyness, they didn’t matter at all because Gavin was looking at him with a soft, loving expression, and yes, perhaps it didn’t matter at all.

“You’re beautiful,” Gavin informed him, and Nines felt his thirium pump skip a beat at the honesty in his eyes. “If you feel uncomfortable, or want a break, or to stop, or anything, just say the word, okay?”

“Yes,” Nines promised, and Gavin beamed at him.

Belying the desire with which he’d kissed Nines minutes ago, Gavin was gentle. He explored Nines thoroughly, kissing and licking and caressing his way down Nines’ neck into his chest. Nines’ breathing quickened, trying to compensate for the overheating, because Gavin’s tongue and mouth on him felt delicious, and he couldn’t help the small sounds that left his lips at the stimulation.

“_Gavin_,” he moaned, outright _moaned_, and it felt good not having to hide his desire anymore.

Gavin chuckled, trailing kisses down Nines’ stomach and up again until Nines felt drunk from the input.

When he pulled away, Nines’ LED whirled red, a sound of almost distress involuntarily coming out of his voice box. “Please,” he begged. “Please, don’t stop. I’ve wanted…”

“Oh?” Gavin teased, eyes bright. “Have you been holding back?”

“Yes,” Nines babbled, too distracted by the skin-to-skin contact to have much control of what he was saying. “I have wanted— mmm—I have…thought of this,” he confessed, and knew it had been the right thing to say when Gavin’s expression darkened.

“Sweetheart,” Gavin asked, kissing just under Nines’ thirium pump, sending a shiver down the android’s spine. “Tell me what you want?”

“I—I am not certain.” Nines squirmed when Gavin kissed downwards, using his tongue on the place Nines’ navel would have been had he been human, teasing. “While I— _ah_— have an idea of the diversity of sexual acts possible I h—have not yet decided which one I would like to experience with you —_Gavin!_— first.”

That stopped Gavin short, and Nines took a second to admire him. As he had kissed downwards Gavin had settled between Nines’ legs, and just the sight of him like that, pupils dilated and comfortable wearing only his skin, made Nines want him even more.

_First_, Gavin mouthed, closing his eyes for a moment and groaning as if wounded.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he informed Nines, softening the words with gentle hands over the android’s belly. “Okay then. If you’re not sure...let me take care of you?” he asked, gesturing towards Nines’ arousal and licking his lips, an unconscious manifestation of his own desire. “If it becomes too much or you don’t like it, just say the word and I’ll stop, okay? No questions asked.”

Nines noded, speechless, touched by Gavin’s constant reassurance even if he was pretty sure there wasn’t a way Gavin could touch him that Nines wouldn’t enjoy.

He relaxed for a second only to tense again when Gavin kissed the tip of his cock.

In truth, Nines had been doing his best to ignore it. He had used his genital attachment a handful of times, and never for a purpose other than pleasuring himself. Although he often felt aroused when making out with Gavin, without the attachments the arousal felt sweet, like a pleasure of its own.

The genital attachments made everything different. It turned arousal and want into desperate need, and it disquieted Nines, this strange new feeling he couldn’t quite control.

However, when Gavin’s mouth closed around his erection, Nines arched from the bed with a broken cry, the pleasure sudden and overwhelming. He felt embarrassed by his own reaction, by the way he wanted to chase the heat of Gavin’s mouth, and would have closed his eyes in mortification had Gavin not laced his fingers with Nines’ guiding his hands to Gavin’s head, eyes soft and understanding.

“Guide me,” Gavin mumbled, and Nines trembled with desire.

He was tentative at first, too sensitive and unused to the sensations to do anything else. However, Gavin didn’t seem turned off by it in the least. The more Nines experimented, the more sounds spilled from the man’s throat, until it registered in Nines’ advanced brain that Gavin was not only indulging him, he was actively enjoying this.

Nines moaned at the notion, guiding Gavin more firmly, unable to miss the way Gavin’s breathing quickened at being so used, how his eyelashes fluttered in pleasure.

Still, even while swamped by the new sensation, Nines was slow, fucking Gavin’s mouth --because there was no other word for it-- in long, deep thrusts, until Gavin took all of him, throat fluttering around Nines.

And it was...it was incredible. More than Nines had ever imagined. Around him, Gavin’s throat was hot and wet and wonderful. It felt incredibly good, the sensual movement of Gavin’s tongue, but even though he felt nearing a cliff of pleasure, it was like the fire within him was burning brighter.

More. He wanted more, he needed more, more of Gavin— it would never be enough.

Nines came with a silent gasp, dry because he was an android and hadn’t yet occurred to him that the mess might have an appeal. Gavin worked him through it, reflexively swallowing nothing, until Nines trembled, too overwhelmed to take any more.

Sight clouded with red warnings that meant nothing to him, Nines reached for Gavin and kissed him.

* * *

Nines’ kiss was messy and uncoordinated, and Gavin smiled against his lips, pleased.

The android underneath him was a sight. Nines didn’t --couldn’t-- blush, but his hair was deliciously rumpled, pale throat exposed in invitation. And the way his eyes were a bit unfocused, the way he was breathing heavily through parted lips, completely relaxed against Gavin’s sheets, made Gavin want to kiss him all the more, wreck him until he was moaning Gavin’s name again so sweetly.

Nines was beautiful, the most gorgeous and amazing person that Gavin had had the luck to lay his eyes on, and the amount of things he wanted to take from him --to give him-- almost scared him in their intensity.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asked, kissing Nines’ forehead because that was one of the things he wanted to give Nines-- care, affection, the grounding certainty of being thoroughly loved.

Blue wove into Nines’ previously amber LED, and the pattern was familiar enough that Gavin recognized it as Nines’ way of expressing happiness.

“Mmm, Gavin,” Nines mumbled, turning in Gavin’s arms to catch his mouth, a sweet kiss, and Gavin beat down the wave of want that took him at the gentle touch. It always awed him, the hunger Nines could make him feel with touches that could be considered innocent-- if they were not naked after just having had sex, of course. “That was…”

Gavin chucked.

“Yes,” he answered, smug and pleased with himself because he had always been good giving head, and he had also always loved pleasuring his partners.

They kissed for a few more moments, and Gavin allowed himself to enjoy Nines’ exploration of his body, his strong hands gentle but also obviously curious.

“You…I do not know what you need,” Nines confessed after a while, but he didn’t sound concerned as much as simply stating a fact. As if he was waiting for Gavin to guide him, which was very valid and damn if that didn’t do things for Gavin.

“Ah, well. We have time. What do you have in mind?” he asked because it was obvious to him that Nines was dying to ask for something, the way he was almost vibrating with it.

“No, I…I do not know bed etiquette, so I do not know if it’s okay to ask…”

Gavin smiled, overcome with affection. “Just say it, babe. I assure you I’m gonna be delighted to know what you want.”

“I want you inside me,” Nines said bluntly and for a second Gavin thought he had misheard. He stared at Nines, stunned, and the android’s LED stuttered yellow as he hurried to explain. “My, ah, experimentation…it was always more satisfying when I preconstructed myself as the receiving partner.”

Gavin gaped, mind completely clouded by lust. Simply going by Nines’ build, and because he was pretty sure this was the android’s first time, Gavin had assumed he would bottom. Still, his dick twitched at Nines’ words because of course he _had_ fantasized about this, about bending Nines in half and fucking him, slow and deep, making him moan, making him scream...or at least he had before sweet domesticity had started staring in his dreams, gentle, sleepy sex replacing the roughness of his first fantasies.

Despite his body's enthusiasm, he must have stayed silent for too long because Nines suddenly ducked his head.

“Is that alright?” he asked, looking uncertainly at Gavin from under his lashes, and that doubt was not something Gavin could allow to remain unaddressed for even a second longer.

“Yes, it’s okay. Of course it’s okay. Whatever you want,” he promised, kissing Nines between reassurances. “Sorry, babe, I was just taken by surprise.”

It took only a heartbeat for Nines to catch on. “Oh, I see. My physical build made you preconstruct the assumption…” Nines began, correctly reading Gavin.

“Yes, thank you, Nines.”

“Is that something you want?”

Gavin swallowed. “Yeah,” he admitted, blood burning just at the idea because he could not pretend he hadn’t thought about being picked up and fucked against a wall. However, the sight of Nines in his bed was too enticing to think about anything else right that second. “But right now…”

Licking his lips, Gavin ran his hands down Nines’ chest again, unable to stop himself. His was a body made for efficiency, attractive but not ripped or anything of the sort. That was fine with Gavin. Nines’ skin was smooth, free of any imperfection a human would have-- moles, scars, nothing. Just a blank canvas, a body that was only Nines’, perfect the way it was.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

“Gavin,” Nines chided him, impatience and amusement dancing in equal amounts in his beautiful eyes.

“What? It’s true,” Gavin answered, rubbing his beard over Nines’ skin because he’d noticed that was something he enjoyed. Nines’ LED was bright blue even as he raised an eyebrow at his antics, and Gavin was insane but he found Nines’ outwardly impassive expression incredibly arousing. “Yes, yes, yeesh,” he complained as he stretched to rummage through his bedside table and pull a bottle of lube. “Bossy.”

“I do not need preparation,” Nines informed him when he caught sight of the lube. “My sexual biocomponents are made for penetration. You cannot hurt me.”

Gavin hummed in agreement, once again swallowing laughter. He looked up at Nines, happy, because he didn’t remember the last time he had been able to just...enjoy himself in bed, without pressure or hurry.

“Your dirty talk is so sexy, babe.” Gavin settled between Nines’ splayed legs, bending to kiss and bite a strong, creamy thigh. He wished he could leave marks on Nines’ perfect skin, but the desire was soothed by the wounded noise Nines made when Gavin rubbed his beard against the inside of his thigh. “Maybe I just want to touch you all over.”

“Gavin,” Nines outright whined, and Gavin made the mistake of looking up from between Nines’ legs.

The android had his arms thrown back around his head, gripping the pillows. His lips were parted, small puffs of unnecessary air giving away his overheating arousal. His LED was blinking yellow again, probably in anticipation, and laying splayed on his back with a look that was unequivocally desire, he looked absolutely wrecked.

Gavin stroked himself a couple of times to get some relief. He didn’t think he'd ever wanted anything more in his life than he wanted this, and that was mainly what prompted him to stop the teasing and poke around Nines’ entrance with a lube slick finger.

Looking at Nines’ face as his first finger sank easily into him was easily the best decision of Gavin’s life. Nines eyes widened at the intrusion, the look of surprise melting into wonder making Gavin’s dick twitch again in a demand of attention.

“Oh,” Nines said, voice laden with that static overlay that Gavin was learning to associate with Nines’ personal brand of moans. “_Oh_.”

Not finding resistance, Gavin added another finger, pumping them in and out easily until Nines began to respond, angling his hips and trusting back, fucking himself onto Gavin’s fingers.

“Fuck,” Gavin cursed. Nines felt hot, and the silk-soft feel of him trying to suck his fingers deeper made Gavin wet, a burst of precome staining the sheets. “Nines, do you—do you have a prostate?”

“I—ah—there is a sensor—”

Gavin curled his fingers, touching and caressing, and he knew he found it because the sound Nines made was closer to a sob.

“Please! G-gavin, please!”

“Impatient,” Gavin reprimanded, mildly. He really wanted to take Nines apart like this, to make him beg and come on his fingers, but the android glared like he could read his mind —which, considering this was Nines, perhaps he could— and Gavin acquiesced with a grin. There would be time for that later too. “On your hands and knees,” he told Nines. “It will be easier that way.”

“No. No, I want to see you. Like this.”

Gavin swallowed, almost fumbling to get into position, and the look Nines gave him was cheeky, like he knew exactly what his words had done to Gavin.

He held to his control by a thread.

Wordlessly, dizzy with need, Gavin slicked himself up and guided himself to Nines’ entrance. He paused a moment to look up at Nines, and when the android nodded, he began to sink in.

The drag was long and hot and tight, and Gavin moaned low in his throat when Nines’ body parted beautifully to accommodate him. He bottomed out in a smooth movement, and he was so worked up he had to close his eyes and hold still to gather himself together enough not to come right there and then.

“Gavin,” Nines moaned, arching underneath him. This close, Gavin could feel his thirium pump humming like a bee inside Nines’ chest. “Please, Gavin, more!” Nines pleaded, undone and debauched and so very utterly beautiful. “Please, more!”

“Nines,” Gavin panted, voice strained with effort, but compiled because there was not one ich of him that was not wholly Nines’.

Gavin bent down to capture Nines’ parted lips, and Nines sighed, strong arms and legs coming around him to hold Gavin in place. Slowly, deliberately, Gavin pulled back until only the tip of his cock was inside Nines and just as slowly pushed in again.

Nines threw his head back, mouth open in a silent gasp.

“Fuck,” Gavin babbled. He felt like he was in a trance, moving his hips in slow, deep thrusts, mind numb with pleasure. “You—you feel—“

Nines whined in answer, and the sight of him was so intoxicating that Gavin moved inside him, unhurried, until Nines was trashing under him, moving together with Gavin to meet his thrusts half-way, trying to pick up the pace.

Gavin did not pick up the pace. He took his time to bring Nines to pieces, slow and sweet, heart thundering in his chest and spilling with adoration for this lovely, wonderful person that had stayed by his side through doubts and fears.

And it was absolute torture, the pleasure so exquisite it took Gavin a while to notice that the breathless moans filling the room were actually his own.

He met Nines’ eyes, and he was thunderstruck by the way they shone, by the amount of pure need and love staring back at him. Gavin closed his own eyes briefly, overcome. He suddenly felt vulnerable, naked, self conscious of what Nines might read into his own open face.

Of what he might read into Gavin’s battered heart.

“Gavin, look at me,” Nines' voice called him, and Gavin trembled as he obeyed. The android’s expression had shifted. It was dark now, hungry, and Gavin barely had time to register what was happening when Nines easily turned them around, pressing Gavin’s back into the bed and looming over him like the storm his eyes heralded. “I believe you are, detective,” he whispered darkly into Gavin’s ear, “what they call a tease.”

“What—”

But Nines already had Gavin back in hand again, lining him up and sinking down, down, taking Gavin back inside himself easily.

“But I want you. So much I think I will go mad with it,” Nines continued. “And I am selfish enough that I want to see you have what you hesitate to take from me. What I would willingly give you.”

Gavin moaned as Nines began to move. Nines, unlike Gavin, was not gentle at all. He set a fast rhythm, hard and unforgiving, riding Gavin until the man was almost delirious with pleasure.

“Look at me, Gavin!” Nines commanded. “Do not close your eyes._ Look at me_!”

Gavin couldn’t do anything else but obey.

Above him, Nines was gorgeous, gasping and moaning as he rode Gavin, eyes half-lidded. However, what made Gavin’s breath stutter was the way Nines’ skin seemed to be fading in patches, white plastic showing at random intervals.

Although he could barely think, Gavin still had enough presence of mind to touch Nines’ face, awed when the skin receded under his fingers. With a thumb, Gavin stroked the bare white plastic, and Nines whined, his pace stuttering in answer to the touch.

It was the most arousing thing Gavin had ever seen in his life.

“Come here babe,” Gavin mumbled, pulling Nines closer, guiding his movements so Gavin could go deeper, needing the closeness.

Gavin was determined to chase the rest of Nines’ skin off his face so he did, touching and caressing until only white was showing. And then, with the face beneath the skin in view for the first time, Nines stilled, vulnerable.

They stared at each other for a second, intimately connected as they were, finally seeing each other truly bare for the first time.

“I love you”, Gavin whispered, the only words that could even slightly begin to express the enormity of what he felt for Nines. He felt raw, needy, desperate for Nines to be closer, closer still, to take his heart so it could beat beside Nines’ thirium pump, to love and be loved, needing to be understood.

But perhaps Nines did understand because his lashes fluttered, delicate like butterflies, and when he moved again he was slow once more, slow and deep and intense.

“Nines,” Gavin moaned, buckling under him, a sob catching on his throat.

“I’m here,” Nines mumbled, voice staticky. “I love you,” he said, a prayer. “I love you so. Please...”

That was it. Gavin bent his knees for leverage as he thrust upwards with abandon, losing himself in Nines’ body, in the heat and the love, wild uncontrolled motions that pulled delicious whines from Nines. He was not sure if the words coming out from the android’s lips were prayers, his name, or declarations of love, but in the end Gavin didn’t care because he _knew_.

Gavin’s orgasm came upon him like the tide, rising and crashing over him like a wave, taking Nines with him as he came. It seemed to go on and on, the pleasure rippling from the way Nines tightened around him, milking him, hot and soft and slick, and Gavin shook through it, clinging to Nines and capturing his lips and drinking the android’s sweet sounds directly from the source.

It took Gavin a while to become aware of his surroundings again, but when he did he was pleased that Nines was still on his arms, pressing soft, lazy kisses into the hollow of Gavin’s neck.

He had never been particularly emotional during of after sex, but at that moment, with Nines’ bright eyes looking at him, Gavin felt like crying, like laughing, like living, anything, everything, as long as he could have Nines by his side, looking at him like this always.

“My love,” Gavin said, caressing Nines’ face. He had never been particularly sappy either, and he blushed bright red as he said it, but his heart felt like it was overflowing, and he didn’t care.

It was the truth anyway.

On his temple, Nines’ LED shone blue in answer. And because Gavin was safe, and in love, and full of joy he laughed.

In the window, the curtain danced, swayed by a gentle breeze.

* * *

The next morning, when Gavin woke up, Nines was there, beside him.

Gavin woke up slowly, green eyes hazy at first, and when he spotted Nines he smiled, carefree and warm. They kissed slowly in bed, and this, Gavin’s sleep-warm body, his lazy kisses, was everything Nines had ever wanted in life.

When Nines rose to make Gavin breakfast, the man followed. He was slow with sleep, hair all mussed up and lovely in his boxers and dumb _I don’t really wanna to do the work today _t-shirt. From the kitchen, Nines watched him play with Fliss, trying to engage #9 and utterly failing, the morning routine that would become common for them in the future.

As it was, after Gavin was satisfied he had tired Fliss enough --doubtful-- he went to kiss Nines, still a bit groggy even after playing with the cat, before nuzzling into his neck.

“Sit down, Gavin,” smiled Nines into Gavin’s hair. “Drink your coffee before Felicia gets into it.”

Gavin obeyed, distracted by the word coffee, and as Nines waited for the last pancake to be done, he noticed Gavin’s copy _The Return of the King_ placed facedown on the kitchen counter. That was an habit of Gavin’s that truly scandalized him, the way he treated books, folding the corners of the pages and leaving them carelessly open instead of properly getting a bookmark like a civilized person.

Curious, Nines picked up the book. He recognized the page as the one Gavin always read when he was having a bad day, and he turned it over to peer at it, aware he was also spying into Gavin's heart.

He was surprised to recognize the scene as the one of Sam and Frodo in Cirith Ungol.

He had read this to Gavin, Nines clearly remembered, that night he had realized he was in love.

Startled, he read on, intrigued because the second half of Sam’s song was highlighted with pencil, a knot of love catching in his throat when he read the lines Gavin had treasured so dearly:

_Though here at journey's end I lie_

_in darkness buried deep,_

_beyond all towers strong and high,_

_beyond all mountains steep,_

_above all shadows rides the Sun_

_and Stars for ever dwell:_

_I will not say the Day is done,_

_nor bid the Stars farewell. _

Nines’ LED shone bright, overcome by emotion. On the other side of the kitchen counter, Gavin was arguing with Felicia, unaware of anything, and Nines loved him so much that he felt his thirium pump skip a beat, a warning popping on his vision to let him know about the strain.

When Gavin had a bad day, he did not read about happy endings, but everything in between.

Life.

Hope.

The inner timer Nines set for the pancakes went off at that moment and Nines’ attention shifted to the pan. Smoothly, as if this had been something he had done plenty of times, he placed the food on a big plate and turned towards the table.

The room was quiet, for it was early yet. There was no sun coming through the windows, but the curtains were drawn, and around them there was light nonetheless.

It might come back again after either of them; the fear, the doubts.

And yet…

“So, we have the day off,” Gavin said, taking a break from stuffing his face with pancakes. Fliss was curled on Nines’ lap, offended that Gavin hadn’t allowed her coffee, and #9 was a big ball of fluff dangerously curled under Gavin's stool, begging to be stepped onto. “You wanna go somewhere?”

“Another time, perhaps,” Nines answered. “Let’s stay home today.”

Gavin nodded his acceptance, not at all disturbed by Nines’ choice of words, and the android beamed he was so happy.

After the dishes were done, as they prepared to watch a movie, Nines delayed a little in the kitchen. Quickly, he scanned the flat with undivided concentration until he found a bookmark under the couch in the stash where Felicia hoarded her trophies, and swiftly recovered it. Then, with gentle fingers, Nines placed the bookmark so neither of them lost sight of the humble poem, and, with loving care, closed the book and smoothed the crinkled back as much as the old book allowed it.

It was not perfect by any means, but still it held great value.

“Nines, are you okay over there?” Gavin asked, already on the couch.

“Yes,” Nines answered.

And he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, my story is that Tolkien got them together and I’ll stick to it until I die XD
> 
> But seriously, thanks so sticking with me until now! Really, I cannot thank enough everyone's kind comments. Writing this I came to realize that writing is not something that can be done alone! This, too, is something that needs others, so I was very grateful everytime you all yell at me telling me what you liked. Made me feel less alone.
> 
> But well! I will not say goodbye yet, because, the story is not quite over yet! As Tolkien said, there's still room for a little more.


	13. Epilogue

_~ Two years later ~_

When Gavin came back home, Nines wasn’t there.

With a sigh, he looked around. There was not much to see. The last of the furniture had already left early that morning, and so the apartment was empty except from a couple of cardboxes and the cats, who stared at Gavin from a puddle of sun with resentment, upset because they didn’t like not having their cat shelves to climb into.

“We’ll be there soon,” Gavin reassured them, even though #9 turned his head in disdain and Fliss ignored him. They would love the new house, Gavin was sure. It was way bigger than Gavin’s apartment, for one, and they would even get access to the garden if Gavin and Nines managed to find a way to cat-proof it.

And that brought him back to his current dilemma.

Nines.

Gavin thought for a second.

It wasn’t a hunch as much as knowledge of his boyfriend that made him go next door, knocking at Margaret’s window to ask her to unlock the door to the building.

“All packed?” she asked, pleasantly. It seemed impossible there had been a time in which they had hated each other, him the annoying neighbor that fed the feral cats, and her the witch that had tried everything to stop him.

“I’m missing an android, but I think I know where he is,” Gavin smiled. For a moment he wanted to stop and tell her about this new recipe Sarah had shared with him --a family recipe-- but refrained. He’d see her soon anyway.

The climb to Nines’ apartment felt longer than usual, although to be fair he hadn’t come that often. Gavin had been surprised the first time he’d seen Nines’ place-- so small and cramped for such a tall android, but very much his. Nines seemed to love it, even though they had pretty much moved into Gavin’s as there was no way the two of them would fit at Nines’, less so with Fliss and #9, who had apparently resigned himself to being a house cat as long as Nines was with him.

When Gavin climbed the last flight of stairs, the door to Nines’ place was open.

The room, which had always been small --barely more than a glorified closet, in Gavin’s not so humble opinion-- looked smaller now that it was empty. The walls were an unnerving immaculate white, and the slanted ceiling made it feel too small, like it would trap a person rather than house them.

Nines was standing in the middle of the empty space, his back to the door, and he looked too big for such a small place.

“Babe?” Gavin asked, and Nines’ twitched, as if he had only just noticed Gavin’s presence.

His LED was red as he turned towards Gavin, and there was something in his eyes, a heavy sort of sadness that Gavin understood immediately.

“Is it time already?” he asked, a pointless question to which they both knew the answer. “I’m sorry. This was a place I both hated and loved. And I am happy to leave it. But I don’t know why…”

“It’s okay,” Gavin told him, walking into the room to hold his boyfriend. “Even if it's a happy occasion, you can be sad if you need to be sad. You experienced many things in this place. And change, no matter the reason, is always hard.”

Nines swallowed like he did whenever he was trying not to cry, and Gavin hushed him, pleased when Nines accepted the embrace, hugging Gavin and hunching a little to hide his face on his shoulder.

“I keep remembering…” Nines mumbled into Gavin’s shirt. “The first day I spent here was so awful. But I experienced so many good things here too. Everyday, I was...”

“I understand,” Gavin soothed him, running a hand over Nines back. “If you need to cry, do it.” Gavin reminded him again. “You were happy here too.”

Gavin held Nines tight as he cried, mumbling loving nonsense into his ear. He did think he understood, somewhat, because Nines had told him all about it. About the locked rooms, about the loneliness, about the hurt he felt in a locker room when his coworkers were talking about him behind his back.

So Gavin held him as Nines cried about his lonely past self, and for his pain, but maybe he cried out of relief too, and many other things too complicated to put into words.

All their things were already at their new house when they arrived.

They walked into the empty house --with empty walls once more-- and even though they spent all evening unpacking, when the sun hid under the horizon the house was still empty, still cold, and they spent that first night wrapped up in each other under the blankets as not to feel lonely, together with the cats.

*

The first thing they did was paint the walls, something they did early next morning.

Nines had not honestly believed Gavin would wake up early for such a dull task, but he was surprised to find him up with the sun, apparently as eager to make the house theirs as Nines was.

Painting, something Nines had never done before, turned out to be both more infuriating and fun that he had expected. They had decided to paint the living room pale blue --_like your LED when you’re happy_, Gavin had said with a secret smile-- and Gavin kept getting them sidetracked by either kissing Nines or smearing his face with paint.

They were half-way done with the living room when they first became suspicious. #9 was looking at them innocently from the top of a pile of boxes, stubbornly ignoring the cat bed a few feet away from him, but Fliss was not anywhere.

“Surely she’s not…” Nines started, but because Gavin had had her for several years now, he immediately went back to the living room, jumping over the pile of boxes they had naively piled up to bar the entrance for the cats.

Indeed, Fliss was already there, exploring, one small paw resting squarely in the fresh paint of the wall they had just finished.

“You _naughty_ girl,” Gavin scolded, picking her up and checking her paw for paint. Luckily, there was none, but in the wall there was a small stain of dirt in the shape of a small paw print.

Gavin and Nines looked at each other, thinking the same thing.

“Bring 9,” Gavin said, and Nines complied.

The big one eyed tuxedo didn’t seem at all pleased with the turn of events, but allowed Nines to maneuver him with silent dignity until his paw was also on the wall.

Gavin was grinning as he opened the tin of white paint, offering it to Nines with a bright smile.

“Your turn,” he said.

Nines placed his hand above the cats’, the white a stark contrast against the blue, and Gavin pressed his hand next to his, their thumbs overlapping in the wall like a butterfly.

At a loss of words, Nines looked at the marks, emotion threatening to overcome him at what they meant.

_We are here. _

_Together._

_A family._

“Shit,” Gavin cursed. “We should have done it higher, and then we could have framed it or something.”

“There’s no need,” Nines answered, his LED blinking the same beautiful blue as the walls. “It’s perfect as is.” Because none of the best things that had happened to him had been planned, but that didn’t make them any less beautiful.

The sound of voices snapped them both into attention. Gavin went to wash his hands while Nines opened the door. Outside, in front of the house, Tina was unloading the back of her car, giving directions to Polly about something or other. It wasn’t long until Connor and Hank were there too, Hank with a grill that Gavin raised his eyebrows at but helped set up nonetheless.

By lunchtime, all their friends were there, helping unpack and paint, and --in the case of the children-- getting in the way. Margaret, Gavin and Amelia took over the kitchen while Tina, Hank and Polly finished painting.

The last ones to arrive where Rin and Laura.

“I’m sorry, my plane was delayed,” Rin apologized, hugging Nines, and he felt his heart swell. He opened the door for his friends, but he stayed just at the doorstep, overwhelmed by the realization that every single person he loved was inside the house, waiting for him.

For a moment, Nines just listened.

The french doors to the garden were open, and so chatter carried from outside-- the children’s laughter, the sound of Gavin bickering with Tina, the joyful voices of those he loved.

“Are you alright, babe?” Gavin asked, coming out of the kitchen.

“Yes,” Nines reassured him, allowing himself to be moved when Gavin led him inside, closing the door behind him. “Yes. It’s just...I’m so happy to be here.”

Gavin laughed, tiptoeing a little to kiss Nines’ nose. “I’m glad that you’re here too,” he answered, obviously distracted by the voices coming from the garden. “Now let’s go. Hank managed to barbecue something I think, and although androids don’t eat, everyone’s waiting for you to begin.”

“Okay,” Nines whispered, voice soft.

The way Gavin wove their hands together was natural, a gesture that had become easy, normal, nothing out of the extraordinary.

Hand in hand --and keenly aware of the box with rings Nines had hidden in his pocket-- Nines went together with Gavin through the open glass doors, to the bright outside, where, under the sun, the people he loved were laughing, waiting for him.

A place Nines got to go to whenever he wanted.

Nines smiled, his LED as bright as a star on his temple, squeezing Gavin’s hand as he walked.

From now on, good and bad things would be accepted.

Together.

As the years went by.

**// THE END //**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok! So this is truly it this time! T_T
> 
> Once more, thank you so much for sticking with me until the very end. This has been a super personal and important story for me, and I struggled so much to get it done. I first thought of it late 2018 when I was going through the darkest period of my life and I began outlining first and then writing as a way to give myself a reason to remain alive a month longer. I just had to write a scene. Then I had to write a chapter. Like Scheherazade I guess. Now, although I'm not okay yet, I’m overall in a better place, and although the things that hurt us might never truly vanish, I’m not giving up ever because fuck it, and I am getting better. Slowly.
> 
> So yeah, thank you so much to everyone that ever commented. Everyone’s kind words were the reason I was confident enough to push myself when I didn’t know what I was doing (which was often lol, especially towards the end) and felt every single word I wrote was trash. Really, those people that commented on every single chapter (looking at you indigo & quilty_kelloggs) are the real mvps. You don't know how much your kind words kept me going. Also, a special thanks to ohnomybreadsticks because without her endless support and encouragement I’d never been able to write this at all.
> 
> I don't know what else to say. I wish the best to all of you, that we all may get through these difficult times. And I'm gonna steal the words of a mangaka that I love a lot:
> 
> "May all of the various experiences you’ve gone through, both the good and the bad, give you the strength to live and grow."
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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